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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

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THE NAKED TRUTH

A/N: this idea came to me very randomly, but i hope you guys will enjoy!

PAIRING: medstudent!Harry X Reader

WARNING: smut

SUMMARY: Harry is a broke med student and Niall talks him into modeling for an art class. Naked.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

MASTERLIST |SUPPORT ME!

“I can’t believe you made me do this. How?!” Harry scoffs as he looks at himself in the mirror, his body naked under the silky robe that will be gone soon, with several strangers in the room.

“It’s gonna be fun!” Niall barks, fixing his hair, he is wearing a similar robe, they were given to them by the owner of the art studio, Priscilla, she is a wonderful woman in her sixties, a true hippy in the heart and a devoted lover of every kind of art.

Niall met her at an art gallery and an odd but wonderful friendship was formed when they got drunk together later that night. Priscilla is married to a fairly famous painter and she started her own art studio a decade ago to give a place to aspiring artists where they can be truly themselves. She holds art classes all day long, from sculpting to painting, she welcomes everyone in her studio and creates a world full of love, art and magic.

Somehow, Priscilla convinced Niall to be the nude model for one of her classes where a live model was requested for anatomical studies with pencil. Being the absolute crackhead that Niall is, he said yes without hesitation, not finding anything worrying in baring himself in front of a room full of strangers. But they needed another guy, because there were two classes happening at the same time and Priscilla couldn’t fit everyone into the same room to draw Niall.

That’s when he had the idea to ask his best friend and roommate to be the other model.

Harry has never said no faster than when his friend pitched the idea to him for the first time.

“Absolutely no, are you out of your mind?!” he raged, but as the days went by and Niall kept bugging him, bribing him with the money he would receive for the one hour class, Harry found himself accepting the offer, because he was in desperate need for the extra cash. Working while being in med school was almost impossible, so he could definitely use the help.

“What pose should I do?” Niall asks, as he pushes Harry away from the mirror and starts striking different poses.

“Preferably one you can hold for an entire hour,” Harry grumbles under his breath. “God, I’m regretting this.”

“What? Come on, you need to live a little! You’re always just studying or working that shitty ass job at the diner.”

“When others start to “live a little” they usually go on trips or start new hobbies and don’t become nude models for art classes.” Harry argues.

“That’s bullshit,” Niall rolls his eyes. “Why are you so nervous about it? You look nice, brother. And your dick is big, you don’t—“

“Alright, that’s enough!” Harry growls and Niall just starts cackling at how embarrassed his friend just got because he mentioned the size of his dick which he has seen several times already, sharing an apartment with him.

Soon Priscilla appears in the room and lets them know that everyone is ready for them, so the two guys follow her down the hall until she stops between two doors.

“Niall, my love, this is going to be your class. Harry, wait for me here, I’ll take you to your class in here. Just let me introduce Ni first,” she smiles warmly as she takes Niall’s hand and pulls him into the room, leaving Harry alone for a few seconds.

He is a nervous wreck. He is about to stand naked in front of a bunch of strangers, most likely several women and for some reason it makes him want to crawl out of his skin. What if someone laughs when they see him? What if he randomly gets a hard on? Oh God, that would be so embarrassing, he is sure he would run out of the room if that happened.

He is anxiously pacing the floor when Priscilla comes back and gestures for him to follow her to the next room. She walks in first and Harry is right behind her as he steps inside, taking the first look around the class.

There are less people than he expected. Only about six, but all of them are women. They are sitting on stools, drawing boards in front of them, curiously eyeing him as he walks in and for a moment he thinks about just running away, but he stops himself. He needs the money.

And then he sees her. The prettiest girl he has ever seen, sitting near the window, eyeing him as he walks to the little podium with a chair set up for him.

Harry feels like the air is knocked right out of his lungs and he almost trips over his own feet, his eyes glued to her. He can barely process how Priscilla introduces him, he finds himself wandering back to her every other second and often he catches her eyes, a small smile tugging on her perfectly shaped lips and Harry already knows he is fucked.

He is about to stand nude in front of the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and it’s not gonna be an intimate moment with everyone else in the room.

“Harry, take whatever comfortable pose you’d like and we can start whenever you’re ready,” Priscilla touches his arm and gestures for him to take his place.

Harry stands next to the chair and he tries to focus on the task, but his skin is burning, feeling her eyes on him. He decides to take a simple pose, putting one foot up to the chair, holding the back of it with a hand while he puts the other to his waist. He thinks this will be alright to keep for the class and then he looks at Priscilla who nods at him.

His hands go to the knot on the belt of the robe, Harry takes a deep breath as he undoes it and the soft fabric opens up instantly, sliding off his shoulders with ease. He hands it over to Priscilla before putting his hands back to the pose he tried out moments ago and so it begins.

He feels awkward for a good ten minutes, just staring at the wall blankly, avoiding to look at anyone, especially her. He is also obsessively trying to keep his thoughts in check so he doesn’t get a hard on. So far, he’s been successful.

When he first allows his eyes to wander around the room he realizes it’s not as bad as he expected. No one seems to be weirdly eyeing him or caring about anything else than their drawing in front of them. He feels like just an object and for once, it’s the best thing that could happen.

He sees the focus on the women’s faces, the sound of their pencils gliding across the paper is the only sound that breaks the silence and somewhat it’s quite relaxing for him.

But then he makes the mistake of looking at her.

She is eyeing his groin when he lays his gaze on her and it immediately sets the alarms off in his head, especially because of the way she takes the end of her pencil into her mouth, staring back at her drawing with her eyebrows furrowed, a tiny line appearing between them, her lips puckered and as she us hunching forwards, her shirt’s neckline has ridden lower, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the swell of her breasts.

He is fucked.

He can feel himself hardening, so he quickly looks away, trying to think of all the least sexy things.

What was his last class he had yesterday? Immunology, yeah that will do it, there is nothing sexy about immunology. Immune systems, organisms, the physiological functioning of the immune system, diseases, malfunctions.

It’s working, he can feel his body calming down, but he is definitely not as soft as he was ten minutes ago. Taking a deep breath he looks back at her, finding her watching him in awe and Harry knows she caught him.

A sudden wave of confidence comes over him and finds himself holding eye-contact with her. She has stopped drawing, her lips are parted as she is staring back at Harry and when he sees her bite into her bottom lip, he can feel himself hardening again.

Fuck.

If only it was just the two of them in the room, Harry would definitely keep up the staring match, he could stare at her for days and still don’t get bored, but he would rather not stand with his cock hard in front of all the other people so he forces himself to look away and starts his mantra about his immunology class again.

The hour passes slow and fast at the same time and Harry avoids looking at the seductress by the window, though he could feel her gaze on him the whole time.

Of course, you dumbass, she was drawing you! He reminds himself but that look he exchanged with her was definitely more than just art.

“Alright, ladies! That’s it for today!” Priscilla walks in and hands Harry his robe. He wraps himself up in it quickly and finally allows himself to look her way. She is sitting on her stool, not too keen on packing up just yet, her eyes lingering on him with a playful glint in them. Harry sucks on his breath as he turns to Priscilla.

“Niall is ready too?” he asks, folding his arms on his chest.

“Oh, he was asked to stay a little longer, he told me to tell you not to wait for him. Thank you so much for your participation, Harry. I’m sure it was a pleasure to everyone!”

Harry takes one last look around the room, his eyes finding her at last before Priscilla walks him out and back to the room he got undressed in before the class. Priscilla thanks him again one more time, handing him the money they agreed on before leaving him alone.

He dressed back to his clothes discarding the silky robe, his light-washed jeans and vintage t-shirt feel like safety after being nude and exposed for so long. With the cash in his pocket he grabs his backpack and he is about to head out, but as he walks past the room his class was held, he finds the door open, not a soul inside, but the drawings are still there and his curiosity makes him walk into the room. He is stunned to see the works the women made of him in the past hour. They all look similar since they saw the same thing just from a bit of a different angle, but they are also different in a way. Technique, shading, details, Harry loves to see how other people see him.

“Like what you see?”

A soft voice makes him jump and as he looks up he finds her standing by the door with a smirk on her lips.

“Just… wanted to check out the outcomes,” he clears his throat, grabbing onto the strap of his backpack to stop himself from fidgeting. He watches her cross the room to the spot where she sat during class. She sits on the stool and Harry walks over to see her drawing as well.

It’s incredible, so realistic even being just halfway done. She’s paid close attention to the tiniest details, the tattoos on his arm are so accurately drawn it almost looks like a photo.

“Wow, it’s amazing,” he breathes out.

“Thank you. I had a great model,” she smiles shyly, peeking up at him. “Do you often do this?”

“You mean standing naked in a room full of women? No,” Harry chuckles and it makes her laugh too, his heart skipping a beat hearing the chime of it. “A friend convinced me to do it.”

She hums and turns back to her drawing while Harry pulls another stool next to hers and sits down, grabbing a pencil she starts working on it again, going over the fern tattoos on his lower belly and Harry follows her strokes as they slowly move down to his cock.

It’s not as detailed as his arm, but it’s clear she’s spent quite some time studying it. Part of him suddenly feels self-conscious about it, but when she peeks at him with a seductive look, he can feel blood rushing to his groin again.

“Want to know what I was thinking about when I was doing this part? I'll give you the naked truth,” she says and Harry doesn't miss the little wordplay she used. Harry nods with a soft hum.

She puts the pencil down and places her hand to Harry’s thigh, he sucks on his breath as their eyes meet again and he notices the pure lust and passion in her irises.

“I thought about how much I wanted to have your cock in my mouth,” she bluntly admits and Harry’s cock twitches from her words. Hell, he almost creams his pants!

She stands up and gets down on her knees in front of him, pushing his knees apart before running her hands up his thighs.

“Can I? I feel like I might burst if I don’t suck you off, Harry,” she begs.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” he blurts out even though he wants nothing more than to have her pretty lips wrapped around his hard cock. Or maybe there is one thing…

“I’m Y/N. Now can I?” she breathes out, one hand palming his cock through his jeans, feeling up the size she’s been only eyeing up until now.

“Yeah,” Harry nods and she wastes no time undoing his jeans and he lifts his hips just enough that she can tug his jeans and underwear down, his needy, hard cock springing free.

“Fuck, I wanted to know what it feels like to hold it,” she moans, wrapping a hand around his length and Harry whimpers in pleasure. “I wanted to feel the weight of it in my palm,” she continues and smears the precum that’s leaked down his cock before leaning closer she licks him up from the base to the head, making Harry cry out, feeling her warm tongue press against his throbbing cock.

“No drawing can do you justice, Harry. Your cock is perfect,” she hums and takes the head into her mouth, making him cum almost instantly.

He feels like a damn teenager, but he hasn’t been with a woman in a while, school got him way too busy to date and casual hook ups are just not his thing.

She sucks on the head, her hand pumping the base before taking more of him into her mouth, it’s warm and soft against his cock and he has never felt like this before. Her head is bobbing relentlessly, one hand on the base while the other one comes up to play with his balls and her name falls from his lips, shakily and out of breath, as if he just ran the marathon.

“Y/N, I’m not gonna last long,” he warns her and she just goes deeper, almost his whole cock gliding into her mouth, his orgasm nearing in an alarming pace.

She pushes her head down until her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she keeps him buried deep in her mouth and Harry’s convinced his soul has left his body.

He comes into her mouth, his hot cum spurting into the back of her throat and she sucks him dry until he has nothing else to give before pulling back and swallowing every drop of him. He is gasping for air as she grins to herself, wiping the corners of her mouth before pushing herself up to sit on the stool again. Harry pulls his pants back up, making himself decent again as he looks at Y/N with cloudy eyes.

“Do you do this to every nude model who comes to your class?” he jokes and she laughs before leaning closer she kisses his lips hard and passionate, perfect after the orgasm he just had the pleasure to enjoy.

“No,” she murmurs against his lips. “Only the ones that are insanely hot and I want to see outside of class.”

“So how about dinner sometime?” Harry smiles, pecking her lips again.

“Only if it ends with us naked. Both of us,” she grins cheekily.

“That can totally be arranged.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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skiller0dani · 4 years ago

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Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

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marktuansvevo · 4 years ago

Text

got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red.

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan.

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist.

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned.

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed.

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered.

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs.

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now.

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,”

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

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thatbangtanbloom · 4 years ago

Text

like cat and mouse | 1

/gif is not mine

like cat and mouse | bts

teaser | 1

categories: suspense, (possibly angst), smut!

pairings: ot7 x reader

genre: mafia!bts, mafia!reader

warnings: curse word, guns mentioned, jimin gets a blow job,hoseok vv skeptical of reader!! , dirty talk, mention of crime

[seeing the warm response, here is the first chapter!]

- - - - - -

From the outset of your meeting, something had told them that you were different. Perhaps it was the sway of your hips as you sauntered over to the boldest of them and cleared your throat as though you belonged there. Or it could have been your first meeting with the third oldest that sent them all trembling in their knees.

You had come across Park Jimin first. He was well renown for his negotiation strategies and his excellence in persuasion. It was a rarity that they did not show up together, but you found yourself more privy to taking chances than questioning why the blonde man had come alone.

“You must be Park Jimin,” You greet him with a hand resting on the small of his back. Your voice is anything but soft and demure, but it has Jimin turning on his heels to face you with amusement. It was rare that women approached him and dared to call him by his first name in a tone that sounded as demanding as yours did.

Jimin’s brow raises at you as he tries to recognize you. He knows better than to assume you have come with someone - no one would dare let their woman come within fifteen feet of the Seven’s prized Casanova. Too often, he had also been approached by opportunists eager to seek their teeth into him, but something about your poise had him thinking differently. Were you someone who was different? “That is me.. and who might you be?”

“You can find out if you keep me interested.” You remark simply as you glance over the men who have long stopped talking to focus on the dynamic between Jimin and you. “I’ve heard about you and I wanted to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

“And if they are?” Jimin replies as he unbuttons the bottom button of his blazer to tuck his right hand into his pocket. Your confidence is far too high for a rookie, yet your boldness is too much for a seasoned veteran. He’s certain he’s never seen your face here before, so why was he still giving you the time of day?

You scoff at his words, “I’d say that you’re worthy of a pursuit then.” You purposely bump your shoulder with his when you pass by, slipping a piece of paper into his palm as you leave just as quickly as you came.

Your lasting impression did not take much for Jimin to join you in the piano room on the second floor fifteen minutes later. He was well aware of the alarming degree of your presence; how he did not have the slightest clue as to who you are and other guests at the party remarking you as the daughter of so-and-so, but he could not draw up an image that could make up for the fraction of your presence. God, it only made him want you ten times more.

“You’re the predictable one, huh?” You remark when you hear the mahogany door close. Leather shoes cross the floor when you are greed by a kneeling Jimin accompanied with a smirk on his face. “I see you read my note.”

Jimin scoffs, “I think it was rather bold of you to tell me your plans.” It had been bold to tell Jimin that you anticipated him taking you home that night. “You know who I am. Do you think I am that foolish to take you back to the place where my brothers and I live?”

Brothers. The smile on your face only spreads. They really did believe that fictitious lie that everyone said they did. “No. If I did, I would have targeted the eldest one. He’s much more fun to play with.” You say as you look up from over your book to meet the hardening look of Jimin. Competition must have been ingrained in them. “I don’t like to blindside people. It’s much more fun to see how you’ll stop me. It would keep both of us guessing. Don’t you think?”

“Mmmm.” Jimin remarks as he sits on the coffee table in front of you. His eyes meticulously run over your clothes: he takes in the curve of your hips, the way the velvet appears to hug you in all the right places, but something feels off. He notices no bulge of a knife or the sliver of a gun. “You came here unarmed?”

You close the book and place it to the side, “If I wanted to kill someone, I would do it with my hands. That’s how I do most things. I like things messy.”

“Fuck,” Jimin rasps as he brings his hand to his mouth. He’s far more invested in the double entendre you’ve elicited from him. It was a rule that the Seven held that they would not bring anyone, under absolutely no circumstances, to their shared home. That was the Sanctuary. That was where their plans were made, where their livelihoods lived, and how they were able to escape from their daily life. Yet, there was no rule in him bringing you back to his apartment. Right?

So that was what brought you to where you were now, on your knees with your cheeks hollow full of Jimin’s hard cock in your mouth. His pants are bunched at his ankles as he guides his hand on the back of your head with an anything but soothing touch. He’s a demanding lover, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty choking on my cock like this. Wanna cum all over your pretty tits and make you mine over and over again…” Jimin’s voice has dropped another octave the second his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s left perplexed as your tongue grazes over the underside of his cock and he barely needs to guide you to his own pleasure.

Just who the hell were you?

He’s nearly gone as his hips bucking into your mouth with every thrust of his hips. His cock throbs inside of your mouth, wanting to feel all of you in every way possible. His praise doesn’t stop, “Can’t wait to feel what your tight pussy is like… you’re already being a good girl taking my cock like this. Imagine how nice it’ll feel with my thick cock in your wet cunt, begging for more of me like the good slut you are.” His words do have an effect on you, especially evident with your arousal that has long begun to peek from your thighs onto your Givenchy dress to leave love stains. Jimin’s experienced enough to know what good sex feels like, and somehow, you were beyond his expectations. It takes everything in him to not cum in your mouth immediately - especially with your dress sliding down your shoulder to show the curve of your breast or hot he spots your fingers creeping between your thighs as you tease your clit from how pretty he sounded.

“Wanna cum inside of you,” Jimin grunts as another thrill of pleasure runs through him at the thought. His chest rises and falls in anticipation as he feels the familiar knot in his stomach further entangle itself from your ministrations. You long have opted to choke on his cock, somehow being correct in your assumption that it boosted his ego. “Fuck- fuck-fuck,” He closes his eyes tightly, “Soojin-ah, please.”

You almost don’t catch your alias that leaves his lips, but you pull away with a lewd pop. “Ah? Is Park Jimin so fucked out that he can’t even speak? Mmm? Did I suck your cock that good where you can’t talk?” You ask as your nail traces along his jawline. He’s not used to someone speaking to him so lewdly, but that only spurs the leaking precut from his cock to grow. You’re so fucking hot that he can’t even stand it. “Use your words.”

“Make me.” He bites back before gripping you by your hips in one swift motion and sinking you down onto his cock. The sudden stretch leads you caught off guard, but you no longer feel empty when Jimin begins to thrust his hips deeper into your wet sex. Your hips soon match his own cadence, rising and falling like a piano crescendo as you ride his cock. “Shit. Who taught you to ride like this? You’re such a good slut and all for me, huh?”

Ah. All for him. You almost laugh. Clearly he had a possession kink. “Mmm,” You moan in pleasure as he soon gives your neglected clit attention. His fingers draw figure eight’s around the sensitive gem, making you bend into him as his hips rhythmically meet your g-spot over and over again. “Jimin, you’re fucking me so good…”

“I know baby,” He rasps before slapping your ass for added stimulation. You hate how easy it is for him to conjure up the tightness in your stomach, your own pussy aching for more from how sexy he looks: his lips stained with your lipstick, the tie loosely dangling from his neck as his shirt is unbuttoned all the way with red marks reminiscent of the bites you left on him. You, too, had a preference for leaving your mark on people. To add on to that, his tattoos are like hidden jewels kissing his skin. He’s beautiful. “Your pussy’s so fucking good that I might just keep coming back to you,” He grunts as he bottoms out inside of you and you’re filled to the hilt. It’s more than enough for you to squeeze him closer by his shoulder, sighing as you roll your hips against his own for the added friction.

“I’m close, Jimin-“ You rasp when he stills inside of you. The ache in you returns, wanting more of his hard thrusts. “Fuck me harder… I’m going to cum-“

Jimin moans, “Me too, beautiful.” He groans as he pistons his hips deeper into your sex. The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the room, soon accompanied by your own moans and Jimin’s own of pleasure. “You’re so fucking tight for me, yeah? Only I can fuck you like this.” He bites into the crevice of your shoulder when he bottoms out inside of you one last time. “Fuck, I’m going to cum-“

He blossoms inside of you without another word, grunting in pleasure as his fingers rub against your own clit more furiously to drag you down to your own high. It only takes one, two, three more strokes before you’re wilting inside of him as his cum fills you to the brink. “J-jimin,” you stammer out as he continues to ride out both of your highs, your dress long torn and bunched around your waist forgotten until he begins to overstimulate you. “P-please-“

“Round 2?” He rasps as his eyes flash mischievously. His cock still inside of you, eager for another round. He’s hungry for you - starving practically despite your previous rendezvous. “You’re so good, baby.” He sounds so sure of it, like he can read you like the back of his hand.

You can’t wait to ruin him.

The next morning, Jimin sleeps soundly in bed. He does not notice the way you slip out of bed undetected and make your way towards his drawers. You noticed in the heat to the night the camera that seemed to follow your every move and only wave to it sweetly. You would have to dig through his belongings later. Now, you would be good and properly feed yourself. And at least Jimin. It was his kitchen, after all.

You pad your way downstairs, focused on satiating the growl in your stomach rather than sleeping Jimin. You would think that he would have awoken the second you turned, but he must have been exhausted beyond repair. He had been rather generous….

“Who the hell are you?” A voice calls out to you and you instantly turn around to be faced with Three of Seven. He looks at you, perplexed. It was unlike Jimin to let his one-night stands stay the night, let alone cook in his kitchen and play house. The younger had often been one to sleep in, but this state of him not answering forced the elder to come visit.

“Jung Hoseok.” You say in an almost robotic tone and smile as you turn off the stove. He watches your every move like a trained soldier - it is quite literally what he is as he moves across the island to approach you. “You’re Three, right?” You ask, smirking to yourself in pure amusement as his face contorts in an unreadable expression.

So you weren’t a dumb one-night stand.

In an imperceptible flash, Hoseok makes his way towards you to pin you against the ground. Two long strides across the kitchen and a swipe across the floor has him knocking you to the ground. Never one to go down without a fight, you grip the fabric of his shirt to pull him down with you before elbowing him in the gut just as quickly as he has made you crumble. He groans from the sudden impact, but doesn’t let up as he pins your hands above your head and sinks his own hips onto yours to stifle your movements.

“Who the hell are you?” He repeats, seeing that he has you trapped.

Nevertheless, you muster all the energy from your lower half of your body to roll on top of him and pin his arms above your own. “Someone you should be worried about.”

A third voice cuts in, presumbly the man you slept with last night from the way he saunters downstairs. “What is going on here?” Jimin asks with a lazy rub of his eye. He is surprised to see you entangled with Hoseok - the older man supplanted under you, much like Jimin was the night before, but under very different circumstances. “Yah… Soojin-ah,” You almost forget to respond to your falsehood, but your head snaps up to bat your lashes at Jimin. “Ah. Did you have fun with hyung?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” Hoseok asks from below you. He grips his side, still surprised at the swiftness of your move and the blunt force of your actions. Who trained you?

“I was asleep.” Jimin replies simply before sniffing the air. “You made pancakes?” He looks a bit disheveled, but ever the gentleman, extends his hand out to pull you off of Hoseok and into his arm lazily. “They’re not poisoned, right?”

“I’ll eat them all and leave you to starve if that is the invitation that you are extending to me.” You remark with a laugh escaping from Jimin.

Jimin is unfazed by your words. He’s only enthralled by your remarks. He’s already been inside of you. He’s confident you wouldn’t give him up so easily. “She’s got a cute sense of humor, doesn’t she, hyung?”

“You didn’t tell her any of our names.. did you?” Hoseok asks with narrowed brows as he brushes himself off and leans against the island. He’s in slight pain, but it’s not as worse as it could have been. You could have easily broken his ribs but opted for minute soreness. He would overcome it.

Jimin shakes his head, “I’m not stupid. She randomly knew mine.” Jimin inspects you for a moment as his brows furrow. “Come to think of it.. you haven’t told me how you knew of me. You don’t seem like a newbie, but you haven’t been well enough for me to know who you are.” He directs his words to you, but there seems to be more hints of curiosity rather than animosity. It’s reassuring. “She seems dangerous, hyung. I like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you unwrap Jimin’s arm from your waist to return to your pancakes and sigh. “Jung Hoseok, would you also like one?”

“She could be an assassin and you just let her walk right on in.” Hoseok says, less amused that the younger man has thought with his nether regions rather than his brain. “What if she killed you in your sleep?”

“But she didn’t.” Jimin remarks as he sits down at the bar stool to admire your back.

Deciding to defend your reputation, “That’s much too easy. If I wanted to kill him or you, I would let you know ahead of time. I don’t like surprises.” You say simply as you flip the pancake onto a plate and set it down. “You’ve got to be aware. It’s not what you see that matters, it’s what you don’t.” You reply before cutting into the pancake to reveal the chocolate chips embedded in them. You cut a sizable piece from each pancake to demonstrate that the pancakes were, in fact, not poisoned and take a bite bite. “See?”

“Whoa,” Jimin compliments as you slide the plate in front of him and begins to eat them. He is still cautious to take a bite, but he is only met with the chocolate melting in his mouth. It almost taste as good as you do. Almost. “This is delicious! Hyung, try some.”

Hoseok eyes you suspiciously before taking a section from your own plate and bites into it. He, too, is only met with chocolate-y goodness and hums. “I’m watching you.”

“Please do.” You remark fondly, only for Jimin to send you a pout of disapproval. He was a paradox of a man, you realize. He’s adorable one minute yet meticulous the next. It keeps you interested. You take a nibble on your pancake as you eat while waiting for the two of them to speak - talk - say anything about their plans are, but both of them only opt to watch you.

While Hoseok is more reserved, he can not fight the curiosity that looms over him from your presence. It was rare that Jimin ever let someone stay in his place, especially over night with the king of work that they did. It was obvious enough that you were someone to not be trifled with, but what the hell was your deal? “Who do you work for?” He asks bluntly as wiping the corner of his mouth.

“I work for myself.” You state with a shrug of your shoulders. Jimin only smirks at your response and nods. He had gathered that much. You gave him far too much cheek to be tied down to any one organization, but you did have a lot of balls to come home with him.

Jimin clears his throat before grabbing a cup of milk, “She’s a tough cookie, hyung. She didn’t tell me much about her. Think I’m going to have to investigate myself.” He chirps with a small smirk. He soon begins cutting into his sausage and eggs with a wide smile. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy the chase though. She’s worth chasing after.”

“Stop thinking with your dick and use your brains,” Hoseok murmurs despite scarfing down another pancake. “Look, whoever you are…. Don’t think because you’re here that we won’t stop watching you. We deal wit people like you all the time. You grow comfortable. You get careless. You stop following the rules and make mistakes. If you do happen to have some hidden agenda, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your brain, myself.”

You merely blink at his words before finishing your breakfast. “Wow. You really know how to get me going, don’t you, Hoseok-ah?” You wink as his expression hardens from how informally you call him. You fold your arms behind your back as you take a step forward to him. “You must be so confused about how this is going to work, so let me tell you.”

Jimin leans forward at your threat. It’s caught his interest, especially since he has yet to figure you out.

“I don’t care if you think you’re going to end me. If you do, I’d think you’re more talented than I assumed.” You remark as your eyes never look away from his. “You’re no match for me. If I had an agenda, I would tell you what it is.. but I’m innocent.” You poke his chest for good measure and smiles. “After all, there’s only one of me and seven of you, right? Wouldn’t that be a death wish for me to do something like that?”

Hoseok scoffs, “You could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” He gives you a once over. “I don’t take kindly to fakes. So if you have a hidden agenda, I’ll preface by telling you to lose it. You’re too pretty to be getting yourself entangled with people like us. Didn’t they tell you that when you mess with fire, you might just get burnt?”

You would be offended if you didn’t acknowledge he didn’t have the slightest clue about who you were. “There have been foxes who outsmarts wolves.” You quip as your eyes scan over his features. It’s honestly a shame how handsome he is when you can only think of your master plan - your own ambitions to take the single thing they hold most dear to them away. “But if you threaten me with fire, let’s just say I won’t be the only one getting burned.”

This leaves both of the men equally speechless from your words. A fox? The two of them share a glance, as though exchanging an unspoken word in acknowledgement. Crafty.

Those were the days where they realized you had left them all of the clues: you had evidently left traces of your own plans from the beginning. It long leaves Jungkook more agitated while tapping his fingers against the leather seat with Yoongi at his side. How the hell had they had missed that?

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, there’s a message left for you.” One of their servants enters the room. She can sense the tension that has long filled the room since you escaped from them two weeks ago.

You didn’t even know that it would end like that, did you? You know I had to leave because I was a bit too attached, huh? I must say. I am touched that you went through all of that hard work to try to find me… but I think you could work much harder.

You say you’re wolves, right? I’ll throw you a bone then. You can find me where kings perished, where heads will roll, where a tour is named after me.

Catch me if you can. - YN

- - - - - - -

Where do you think YN is? How do you think about their first meeting? What do you think about YN's style of playing with their heads? Don't be a silent reader!

There will be more of the other members in the upcoming chapter and how YN gets closer to them!

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Text

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA.

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave.

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?”

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable.

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed.

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend.

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially.

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid; when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be.

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that.

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks.

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras.

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man.

“You good?” His answer was predictable.

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands.

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other.

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end.

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything.

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away.

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph.

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt.

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his.

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing.

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else.

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #fluff

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lesbian-deadpool · 4 years ago

Text

Take A Slice

Part Seven: Goodbye, My Love

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,002

Warnings: Blackmail, angst, talks of drugs, talks of cheating, forced break up.

Summary: You should have known that it would never last.

A/N: Bold and italics = Text Messages.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

It had been three, anxiety-filled days since you had received that last text message.

Yet you could feel your time left here counting down.

"Y/N?" Where are you?"

Natasha's soft, husky voice draws you out of your mind.

"Sorry," you say, blinking back into reality. "There's just been a lot on my mind lately."

She made a pitying sound in the back of her throat. "Anything I can help with?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wade give you a pointed look. As he set up another round of the game, he and Natasha were playing, on the console, he brought over to her apartment.

"No," you shook your head, "I'll sort it out."

"Well, if you ever need me, just ask."

"I know, babe."

"You two are so sweet together. It's sickening."

Your girlfriend laughed at your best friend's dry words, happily taking the controller from him.

Natasha's attention was drawn over her shoulder, watching as you read a message you had just received. The pure look of dread, that you had attempted to hide, covered your face. Causing her eyebrows to scrunch up in curiosity. Anxiety flowing through her, at what might be happening with you.

Little did she know what the message read.

You have two days to get on a plane and never show you face here, ever again.

You didn't want to leave. That much was obvious.

But you had no other choice. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You had to leave.

For Natasha.

"Who are you texting?" Natasha asked, making you snap your attention up to see her face you already.

Wade's eye's bulging in the reflection of the TV, knowing who it probably was.

"It seems important."

"Hmm? Oh, it's just my cousin, ranting about school. He wants me to go see him soon."

Nice lying, Y/L/N.

Natasha nodded at your lie, turning back to the game at hand. Still suspicious.

"So, how was the test?"

A sense of dread washed over you at her words. You hadn't briefed Wade on the lie you had told her, before rushing from her apartment, a few days ago. And he was far too into his game, to be able to think on his feet.

"What test."

Here we go.

"The one you reminded Y/N about, a few days ago," she clarified, with a small smile.

"I never did that."

You could have stopped him.

You should have stopped him.

But you were stuck to your seat, watching it all unfold before your eyes, unable to do anything to stop it.

"What?" Natasha slowly turned on her spot, beside Wade on her coffee table, to face you. "Y/N? What's going on?"

"Natasha, you're dying-" Wade said, thumbs moving over the controller, with practised speed.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"Natasha-"

"Where did you go that night?"

The dread that previously filled you grew like no other, as Natasha rose from her seat, now facing you head-on.

"Babe, it's a complicated story."

"You don't think I can handle complicated?"

"No, of course, you can-!" You rushed to say.

"You're getting annihilated, Natasha. What are you doing?" Wade save a small chuckle.

"-It's just... it really, really sucks."

"I'm an adult, Y/N," Natasha stated, folding her arms across her chest, "I can handle whatever it is."

You were just about to tell her when she cut you off before you got to say a word.

"Y'know I wouldn't have cared as much if you were fucking other women before we got together. But how dare you cheat on me?"

Of course, she went there.

Who wouldn't, really?

"Wait." You raised your hands. "What? What? You think I'm cheating on you? I wouldn't do that, Nat."

Wade cringed when he suddenly came back into the real world after the game had finished. His shoulder's tensing and eye's bulging.

"I uh..." he drawled, placing his controller down onto the coffee table below him, "I gotta go." And then he ran from the apartment, without a bat of the eye, from either of you.

"Well, what do you expect me to think?!" Natasha yelled, "You lie to me about your test just so you can leave. You've been looking at your phone like you've got some hidden secret- Were you even texting Wade, that night?"

It was time.

Time to be honest. To come clean about everything that had been going on, behind her back.

"No." You shook your head slightly.

"Then who was it?!"

"I'm being blackmailed!"

Well... maybe you could have said it better than that.

Natasha looked at you like you had grown another head, mouth bobbing as she tried to find the right words to say. That is until she just blurted, "What?!"

"I got a text a few weeks ago from someone- Rumlow! I got a text from him! And he. He somehow had a copy of the video we made together, I'm pretty sure he hacked my phone. But he's been blackmailing me."

"Y/N. Y/N. What are you talking about?" She stopped your rambling explanation. "This is crazy. If this is just a lie, so I won't think you're cheating on me-"

"It's not! You know me, I wouldn't do this shit. And even if I did, I'm fucking smart enough not to use this as an excuse."

Reaching into your pocket you griped your phone, pulling up all of the texts between you and Rumlow, starting from the beginning. "Here, see."

"You fucked his girlfriend?" Natasha asked after a few anxious minutes of her flicking through the texts.

"Yes, but that was so long ago, I totally forgot about her up until now. She told me she was single! I'm not a fucking homewrecker."

"Well, what does he want from you? Money?"

"No. At first, he made me drop off drugs for him-"

"He did what?!"

You ignored her yell, instead choosing to continue your sentence.

"But now he just wants me out of the school."

"What?" she asked, breath stolen away by the shock you statement had caused her.

"I've already put in my transfer- I know I'm an asshole! And an idiot, and I should- I should have told you all of this way before now. I should have told you the day I got the first texts! It's just..." you heaved a great sigh, "I wanted to spend as much time with you, in denial to the real world, for as long as I could. It was selfish of me, and it wasn't fair to you. And I'm sorry about that. I truly am, Nat."

Tears welled up in her eyes but never trailed down her soft, beautiful face. One of the only other trace of the salty drops, was evident in her voice, as she spoke.

"Why? Why? If you would have just told me all fo this was going on, when it first began, it could have been fixed by now. You wouldn't have to leave."

"Well, as I said before," you started, "I'm an idiot... I thought I could handle it myself. Turns out, I could only make things worse."

So much fucking worse.

Natasha chuckled wetly, "You think?"

"I'm sorry." Tears began to roll down your face. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I know you are."

***

The last two days you had together went quickly.

Way too quickly.

And now it was time for you to say goodbye.

Natasha had offered to drive you to the airport. Which you gladly took.

You had said goodbye to Wade before you left. He almost wouldn't let go of you, as he hugged you goodbye, tightly.

Anxiety and dread filled you, causing you to fiddle with anything and everything. Eye's filtering from one thing to another, and another, and another. All the while, Natasha locked up her car. The red-head coming to stand beside you, noticing your state right away. Instinctively you pulled your cigarettes from your pocket, before realizing you were trying to quit, then pushed them back into their previous place.

"For God's sake, Y/N. Just have a smoke."

"But you don't like-"

"Just-" She pulled your packet of cigarettes out of your pants, and gently pushed one into your mouth, "You're stressed. You need to calm your nerves."

You nodded after a few moments of your eyes shifting from side to side as you thought before you gave in and lit the stick.

The walk from the car towards the airport, and then to the gate you were meant to board your plane on, was simultaneously the longest and shortest walk of your life. And before you know it. It was time for you to leave.

"If you don't let go of me now, I'm not going to be able to leave."

"Good. Don't go. Stay," Natasha was so incredibly close to begging you, holding onto the lapels of your jacket, hoping that that small action would get you to stay with her.

"I can't," you whispered hoarsely, tears burning your eyes, "You know I can't, I have to go. I can't ruin your life, Natasha."

"I don't care! I want you."

"Don't be stupid. This is what you're destined to be. You love your job, and you're a fantastic teacher. I can't take that away from you, and you know that."

"But I don't want to lose you." Tears poured from her eyes, and down her soft milky cheeks.

"And I don't want to lose you. But sometimes we have to lose what we love."

"What?" Natasha asked breathlessly.

"What?"

"You love me?"

"I... yes," you whispered, "I do. I love you."

More salty tears spilt from her eyes, but you didn't have enough time to even try to wipe them away before you were pulled into a passionate kiss.

"I love you too," was husked against your lips, "I love you, so much." Then her lips returned to yours.

Peck after peck. You both took as much as you could, until the moment you were dragged away.

The last boarding reminder rang in the air.

"I really have to go now."

"I know. I know."

But Natasha still never let go of your jacket.

Your eyes were full of sadness as you raised your hands and gently pulled hers from you.

"I love you," you said one last time. Getting the same back.

The red-headed woman never once stopped crying as she watched you board the plane, and then when the plane took off and disappeared from her view.

That's it.

It was over.

You were gone.

***

Stepping off of the plane, and into the large airport. The warm sun, flowing through the shiny floor to ceiling windows, as you walked through the crisp white building, spotting the one person who promised to meet you when you got there.

"There's the troublemaker!" Tony smiled, playfully, "It was only a matter of time."

"Do you ever know when to stop?" You asked the man who threw his arm around your shoulder's, pulling you into a side hug as you walked to grab you bags.

"Nope. You should know this by now."

You let out a humorous sound that seemed to be a mix between a scoff and a chuckle, as you shook your head.

Looking over, Tony could tell you were heartbroken. And he would be here for you.

Every step of the way.

"C'mon, there's a room all set up for you in my place. You'll have a good home there."

"Thanks, Tony," you said, staring him in the eyes, yours showing him just how grateful you were, "I like the beard you're growing in." You poinded to your own chin, in reference to the mans newly sprouted stubble.

"It's actually a goatee, thank you very much."

"Oh, my mistake."

Maybe. Just maybe, things would be so bad here in L.A..

This might just be the fresh start you were craving for.

You were kidding yourself by dating your teacher, anyway.

Things like that never worked out.***

Take A Slice Tag List:

@wannabe-fic-writer, @ohfuckno, @uglipotata72829

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kuroopaisen · 4 years ago

Text

cause & effect || chapter 5

➵ your work friend, kuroo, has a tiny favour to ask. unfortunately, that favour includes convincing his family that you’re very much in love with him and have been for a while now. let’s just say it’s easier than you’d assumed.

warnings: f!reader, mild depiction of anxiety i guess?

wc: 3.9k

m.list | ch. 4 ↞ ch. 5 ↠ ch. 6

“You ready?” Kuroo asks, giving you a warm smile.

You take a deep breath.

He’s parked his car in the driveway of his parent’s home. You hadn’t even known he had a car; you’d always thought they were a bit useless when you live somewhere like Tokyo.

But that isn’t the point.

The point is, you’re about to meet his grandmother.

The very woman who’d started the toppling dominos that’d led to you sitting in this very car.

You’re also about to meet his dad and grandfather, but they sound a little less intimidating.

Honestly, you feel like this is all a bit quick. Do you even know him well enough to pull this off yet? But, as Kuroo had pointed out, the earlier you met his immediate family, the fewer names and faces you’d have to familiarise yourself with later in the month.

You’re the one who’d suggested this weekend, anyway. You can’t back out now.

“Hey,” Kuroo murmurs, tilting his head at you. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can say you came down with a cold.”

“Oh,” you blink at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh, no, it’s fine! I just need a moment. To… to steel myself.”

Kuroo smiles, the concern in his features melting away into relief. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you, Kuroo,” you nod.

God, how long has it been since you’d met someone’s parents? Too long. Embarrassingly long. Long enough for your own parents to be a little disappointed in you. Not that their opinions matter—

You shake your head.

No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking about them right now. You have a job to do.

“Alright,” you sigh. “I’m ready.”

“Great,” Kuroo nods. “Well… let’s go, I guess.”

The two of you slip out of the car, making your way towards the front door.

It opens before you’re even halfway there.

“Ah!” An old lady hobbles towards you, and you know immediately that it’s Kuroo’s grandmother. They have the same eyes – clever, bright, calculating.

“Look who decided to show up,” the woman tuts, placing her hands on her hips in the perfect image of a displeased mother.

Kuroo rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink. “You make it sound like I never visit,” he mumbles.

“Well, you certainly don’t visit as much as I’d like,” the old woman scoffs, shaking her head.

“I have a job, Obaa-chan,” Kuroo grins, stepping forward and ruffling her hair.

“Now, now, Tetsu,” she chuckles, swatting his hand away, “you’re still in no position to do that.”

“I’ll be the one looking after you in your old age, you know,” he teases.

“Oh, I’m well-aware,” she responds, totally unphased. “You’re not getting away with anything less.”

The old woman turns to you, a kind, if cheeky, smile on her face. The family resemblance really is striking. The eyes, the smile, the energy… It’s almost comical.

“Hello, dear,” she greets you with sincere warmth in her voice.

“Hello,” you smile as best you can, offering her a bow. Your stomach feels all fuzzy and your chest is tightening –

This shouldn’t be so stressful. It’s not like you’re meeting his family as his actual, real girlfriend. And yet, you’re still worried about making a good impression.

Oh, and putting on a good performance. That’s important too.

“Oh, none of that,” Kuroo’s grandmother chuckles, shaking her head.

As you rise up, she waddles towards you, arms open and ready to embrace you.

You respond at the last moment, only just registering what’s happening.

“It’s delightful to finally meet you,” Kuroo’s grandmother beam, looking you up and down. “Ah, you’re even lovelier than the photos.”

“You too,” you smile, your cheeks blooming for the second time today. “And thank you.”

His grandmother chuckles, throwing her arms around your neck. Your eyes widen and you almost jump, but you reciprocate, nonetheless.

This woman is already more delightful than you can handle.

“I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, my dear.”

You didn’t think your face could get any warmer, and yet here you are. “You have?”

“Indeed!” She laughs. “And I’ve surmised that you are far too good for my grandson.”

“Obaa-chan!” Kuroo gasps.

“Would you begrudge me for telling her the honest truth, my boy?” Kuroo’s grandmother tuts. “I know you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You should be able to put two and two together.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you laugh.

“Oh, surely not,” she shakes her head, taking a step back. “Now come, come!”

She hobbles back to the front door, beckoning the two of you.

You stall. Why, you don’t know. Nerves, probably? Man, this is so much harder than you thought…

“Hey,” Kuroo murmurs, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. You start as his breath tickles your ear, whipping your head round to look at him.

He nods towards his front door with an encouraging look in his eyes.

You swallow roughly, trying to ground yourself. There’s more to be nervous about than you’d anticipated.

The two of you walk through the front door – Kuroo has to stoop a little, because of course – and you take a moment to survey the house.

It’s a little cobbled together – walls covered with frames of all different shapes and sizes, a bookcase full to bursting with a rainbow of books, trinkets scattered here and there. It’s a mix of Japanese and Western-style, a concoction of couches and spare floor cushions, a low coffee table, wide rooms with open sliding doors and generous windows.

Slapdash as it is, it’s homely. Comforting, even.

Kuroo’s grandmother potters around the kitchen. From the clatter of mugs and kettle, you guess she’s preparing tea.

You turn to Kuroo for instruction. He takes your hand in his, leading you through the front room and towards the kitchen. You tighten your fingers around his palm, trying to calm the swirl of nerves rattling around your stomach.

He pulls out a chair for you at the kitchen table. You thank him quietly and slip into it as he plops himself next to you.

He slouches against the back of his chair, his demeanour melting in a way you’ve never seen before.

Well, you think, this is the house he grew up in.

“Here you go, dears,” his grandmother hums, flashing through the corner of your vision and setting a tea-set on the table in front of you. “I hope you’re a fan of green tea.”

“Thank you,” you smile. You’re not going to complain – especially since she’s gone to the trouble of preparing it for you.

She pours out three yunomi, setting one in front of each of you. Once she’s done, she plops herself down on one of the chairs, wiggling forward so she’s on the edge of her seat.

“Now,” she smiles, reaching over and taking one of your hands in hers. “You must simply tell me all about yourself.”

You freeze.

What is there to say? Even now, an adult with a wage job, you can’t quite put a finger on what really defines you as a person. It certainly isn’t your job in marketing.

You clench your free fist in your lap, trying to think of something, anything to say.

Even if this is fake, even if this is just a ruse to calm his grandmother’s nerves for the holiday’s… it’s hard. It’s scary.

You want to make a good impression. You want this to go well. But you just don’t know how to make that happen. What if his grandmother doesn’t even like you? What then?

Kuroo slips a hand over your balled-up fist, rubbing a gentle thumb over the ridges of your knuckles. You loosen your grip just a little, letting him slip his fingers through yours.

The contact is still strange, still foreign. And it’s fake.

You know it’s fake.

But it gives you the tiny spurt of strength you need.

“Ah,” you laugh nervously, “where would you like me to start?”

The old woman smiles, shaking her head. “You’re fine, dear. The two of you met at work, yes?”

“Yes,” you nod. “He makes it more bearable.”

His grandmother laughs. “Well, I suppose his sense of humour is decent enough. He gets it from me, after all.”

You grin. “There is that. But he… he helped me settle in when I first started working there. I really appreciated that.” You blush. It doesn’t sound particularly romantic, but they’re honest feelings. Perhaps the best way to make this believable is to play upon what’s already there.

Kuroo squeezes your hand gently. You squeeze his back.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you Tetsu?” His grandmother chuckles. “You see a lost little duckling and you just have to take them under your wing.”

Kuroo blushes, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Well… you know…”

His grandmother shakes her head, turning back to you. “He’s always been like this, you see.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard all about Kenma,” you smile. “Oh, and there’s a Tsukishima, right? From volleyball.”

“As I expected,” she chuckles, raising an eyebrow at Kuroo.

“You make it sound like I go around picking up charity cases,” he mumbles, looking away from her. You can’t make up much of his face, but his ears have gone a little pink.

“Are you calling me a charity case, Tetsu?” You tease, tilting your head at him.

His head whips back around, eyes wide. “No—I—why would you draw that conclusion?”

You giggle, giving his hand another squeeze. “Just teasing.”

His grandmother chuckles, a new glint in her eyes. “You might have to reconsider who the charity case here is, my boy.”

“I never said she was a charity case!” He whines, looking between the two of you with an expression of deepening panic. “I would never—”

“I thought I raised you to treat women better,” his grandmother sighs, propping her elbows on the table and dramatically hanging her head in her hands. “To see that I’ve failed so terribly…”

You laugh, the tension in your stomach easing a little.

He definitely gets his sense of humour from her, you realise.

And it’s more than just the sense of humour.

You know this woman’s already picked up on your anxieties. It’s like she’s trying to soothe them, in her own way. Just like he does.

His observant eye is a family trait, it seems.

The conversation flows a little easier after that; Kuroo tries to redeem himself to little effect, his grandmother asks you how you like to spend your spare time, Kuroo tries to stop her from relaying any embarrassing childhood stories…

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting at the kitchen table, but your tea’s gone cold.

You haven’t even drunk any of it.

“Oh, I should put the kettle back on,” his grandmother hums, as if reading your mind. “I’ve always been bad at playing host.”

“Not at all!” You say without even thinking.

Kuroo’s grandmother chuckles, offering you a kind smile. Her gaze flicks to Kuroo, the look on her face turning a little wicked. “Honestly, Tetsu, I don’t know how you managed to land yourself such a sweet young woman.”

“It’s almost as if you don’t have faith in me,” Kuroo grumbles, propping his chin on his hand.

“The gall it must take to say such things to your own grandmother,” she tuts. “It’s my duty to love you more than anything else on this planet, you know.”

“Hm,” Kuroo nods slowly. “It’s a shame you’re not doing a very good job at performing said duty, then.”

“Kuroo!” You gasp, staring at him with slack jaw.

A sound that exists somewhere in the venn diagram of a shriek, a warble, and a laugh erupts from Kuroo’s grandmother. “My my, we are getting bold!”

“He’s lying,” you cut in, “he talks about you all the time. Especially about how good you’ve been to him.”

“Oh?” She grins devilishly. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “He’s a real grandma’s boy.”

“Oi!” Kuroo barks, staring at you with what appears to be disbelief. Nothing you’re saying is a lie – and that just makes it all the more incriminating.

“Oh, don’t blame her, Tetsu dear,” his grandmother laughs. “I’m sure she’s just worried about my feelings.”

You blush a little. She’s right – the last thing you want is for this lovely old woman to feel like her grandson did nothing less than adore her.

But, this family dynamic is very new to you. You can’t imagine being this casual with your own family members.

“I’m sorry, Obaa-chan,” Kuroo grins, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You better not have!” She gasps, placing one aghast hand on her chest. “Goodness me, Tetsu, you’re going to do my heart in if you’re not careful.”

“And we can’t have that,” Tetsu chuckles softly.

A lull sets over the kitchen as the verbal combatants take a moment to compose themselves. You let the silence sit, trying to find comfort in the pause.

You can tell that there’s nothing misunderstood here. Even though you feel like you need to explain, like you need to ensure that she’s aware of how Kuroo really feels…

Well, it seems like that’s not necessary at all.

How beautiful, you think to yourself with a small smile.

A scuffling down the hallway perks your ears.

“Oh, hello!”

You turn towards the source of this new voice.

A kindly old man pokes his head through the hallway. He’s got quite a lot of hair for someone his age.

“Hey grandad,” Kuroo says, holding up a hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were visiting today?” He chuffs, hobbling towards the little gathering.

Kuroo frowns. “Obaa-chan didn’t tell you?”

The woman in question chuckles to herself.

“Really?” Kuroo asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve got to make your own fun when you’re this age, Tetsu dear,” his grandmother says sagely, bringing her yunomi to her lips as if to declare an end to the interrogation before it’s even begun.

At this point, the tea must be stone cold.

The older man tuts, turning to you with a nod. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come and make my introductions earlier, my dear.”

“You must be Tetsu’s grandfather,” you grin, returning the nod.

“The wrinkles gave it away, didn’t they?” He sighs.

“Not at all,” you shake your head with a smile. “It’s the air of wisdom.”

He laughs, a full-bellied chortle that’s not unlike the one of the man sitting next to you. “Oh, now I know you’re lying. There’s no wisdom to be found in here.”

He emphasises his point with a solid tap of two fingers against his temple.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s untrue,” you smile.

“He married me, dear,” Kuroo’s grandmother chuckles. “Believe me, that is not the mark of a wise man.”

“I beg to differ,” you turn to her with bright eyes. “I think any man would be lucky to have you.”

A genuinely delighted laugh leaves her lips. “Oh, you really are lovely, hm?”

You blush for what feels like the hundredth time today, glancing down at your lap.

Your hand is still twined with Kuroo’s. You’d forgotten about that. He seems to have, too.

How strange.

You raise your head sharply, intent not to think about it too hard.

Kuroo’s grandparents are exchanging a look – so many years of marriage simply must result in some kind of nonverbal literacy, right?

“Go call Ta-chan, would you dear?” Kuroo’s grandmother smiles sweetly up at her husband, fluttering her eyelashes like a young vixen.

He rolls his eyes, but even you can tell it’s out of fondness. “Yes, darling.”

“Ta-chan?” You ask, looking to Kuroo.

“My dad,” he grins.

“Ah,” you giggle. The thought of a man well into his fifties being referred to as ‘Ta-chan’ is enough to help you feel a little more comfortable. Just a little.

Kuroo’s grandmother scuttles off down the hallway. His grandmother gets up and puts the kettle on again after pouring her current cup of tea down the sink.

You take a moment to compose yourself, turning to Kuroo.

He smiles at you, his cheeks warm and his eyes fond.

‘How am I doing?’ you mouth at him.

‘Great,’ he mouths back.

The burden slides a little, your shoulders feeling a little lighter.

You can’t quite tell, but if Kuroo thinks you’re doing okay…

“Ah, hello!”

The new voice makes you jump as a new presence fills the kitchen.

A tall, broad man ambling his way towards you, his cheeks ruddy and his eyes glinting with a cleverness that you’ve already begun to associate with the Kuroo family line.

“Kuroo Takashi,” he beams, holding one hand towards you. “And trust me, you need no introduction.”

You blush as you take his hands, giving it a meagre shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Takashi grins at you as he pulls out a seat of his own, right next to his father.

You realise, now, that the table is full.

Some absent-minded conversation flies around the dining table – something about work, something about the vegetable garden.

Family stuff.

It’s endearing, even if you’re not a part of it. Even if you don’t really know what it feels like.

“Well,” Kuroo’s grandmother hums, folding her hands in her lap as she shot you a knowing look, “I’m just glad he’s finally got a girl to look at him twice.”

The comment brings you back to the moment like a sharp slap. You raise an eyebrow at her in response, hoping it makes you look like you’ve been engaged this whole time.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Kuroo scoffs, rolling his eyes.

His grandmother leans across the table towards you with a playful glint in her eye. “You see, he wasn’t very popular with the girls in high school.” She casts a furtive glance towards her grandson. “I think it’s the hair.”

“Obaa-chan!”

You bite back a laugh at the expression of pure incredulity on Kuroo’s face.

“I kept telling you to brush it,” she tuts. “And yet, you always ignored me.”

“I did brush it!” He whines, patting the top of his head. “It just made it worse!”

“That’s what young boys always say when you try to get them to take care of their hygiene,” his grandmother sighs. “It’s a real shame.”

“Is that a dig at me?” Takashi asks.

“And what if it was?”

“You know, I think you need to be taking more responsibility,” he tuts, shaking his head. “We’re the result of your genes, after all,” he says, gesturing between him and Kuroo.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nods.

His grandmother raises his hands in surrender, shaking her head slowly. “Why are you just blaming me? Shigeru is right here—”

“Don’t pin this on me!” Kuroo’s grandfather scoffs. “I am but a bystander!”

You watch the family bicker with a gentle smile on your face.

Kuroo Tetsurou makes sense to you now.

This is only your first meeting, but there’s a little bit of all of them in him. There’s a relief to knowing that no matter what, Kuroo is loved. Adored. Cherished.

And he’s comfortable here. It’s like he can be himself – and he can certainly run his mouth without fear of retribution.

It’s nice to pretend to be a part of it, even if just for a moment.

✧ ✧ ✧

When Kuroo had asked you to pop by Kenma’s house with him, you hadn’t expected… this.

The house isn’t opulent, per se, but it’s big. It’s enough of a spectacle to be a marker of wealth, even if it didn’t have all the bells and whistles that usually accompanied excessive capital.

But perhaps the most staggering thing about it is its occupant.

You’d been told that Kenma’s a successful YouTuber. With that knowledge in mind, you couldn’t help but have expectations.

And yet this man, this famous YouTuber who Kuroo couldn’t shut up about, is so… normal. Just some guy, standing in his sweatpants and a jumper, his long hair tied up in a messy bun.

The contrast with the house is almost comical.

“Hey, so…” Kuroo grins bashfully, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t laugh.”

The man standing at the door of this ludicrously expensive-looking house glances between the two of you, his apathetic expression darkening to one of incredulity. “What’ve you done?”

Kuroo turns to you, his cheeks a little red. “So…”

He takes a moment to introduce you. He also decides that now, this moment, is the perfect time to explain his harebrained scheme. You can’t keep up as he babbles on about miai and the holidays and meddlesome family members and all sorts.

Kenma stares at him through narrowed eyes. His mouth is drawn into a sour point, as if he’s just bitten an ulcer by accident.

“And this is… my fake girlfriend,” Kuroo laughs nervously, gesturing at you.

Kenma turns to you. He looks a bit like he’s having an out-of-body experience.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you smile brightly. “Kuroo talks about you like he’s a proud father or something.”

Kenma shoots Kuroo a truly vitriolic glare. Kuroo grins back, a shade more bashful than before.

Kenma turns back to you with a touch of sympathy in his eyes. “I’m so sorry about him.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you laugh, waving a hand at him.

Kenma blinks at you, as if appraising… something. Your tone, maybe? Your expression? Who knows?

He just sighs, turning back to Kuroo.

“Explain it to me again,” he drawls. He looks positively exhausted. “But in one sentence this time.”

“So, to stop my grandma from setting me up on dates, she’s agreed to be my girlfriend for a few weeks,” Kuroo says, as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. “Not my real girlfriend, but, like…”

Kenma stares at him for an excruciatingly long moment. “You’re so stupid.”

“Why?” Kuroo pouts.

“You really think this is going to work?”

He turns to you, a subtle look of genuine pity in his eyes. “I’m so sorry he dragged you into this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, waving a hand at him. “He’s going to buy me boba for a year.”

Kenma shoots Kuroo a disparaging look.

“It seemed like a fair deal,” Kuroo shrugs.

Kenma shakes his head, closing his eyes. “We can discuss this after the collab.”

“Oh, right,” Kuroo grins at you bashfully. “I’ve got to shoot a collab with Kenma, so if you want to take the car and go somewhere, or…”

“I can help,” you say, almost automatically. “If you need a hand, or…”

A beautiful grin blossoms across Kuroo’s face. “Thank you.”

You smile back at him, your heart doing a little skip in your chest.

“Have you ever moderated a chat before?” Kenma asks.

You shake your head. “No, but I’m a fast learner.”

Kenma smiles a little at that, turning around. “Alright, come on.”

Kuroo gestures you forward, a gentle, fond expression on his face. You nod, stepping through the front door and removing your shoes.

This is only a small sliver of Kuroo’s world, only one little look into all the complexities that go into making this one man. But it’s already so beautiful; so bright, so full of adoration.

You’re already grateful for your stay here – even if it’s going to be brief.

Even if it’s all based on a lie.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: let’s pretend this isn’t late sdflkjfsdlkjf anyway!!

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #cause and effect by rowan

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

___________________

He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head.

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails.

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now.

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you.

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept.

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one.

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs.

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch.

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night.

��Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him.

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid.

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious.

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful.

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too.

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now.

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @sourpatchspinster

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #captain america #yandere #requests #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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oxhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Kawaakari : Last Light On The River

➹ description - sequel to kawaakari | samurai!yongguk comes back to your lonely town but it seems he has his mind on other things. You’re distraught on what to do and how to feel but it still remains, who will you serve?

➹ pairing - samurai!yongguk x reader as oc(yeji)

➹ rated - M for mature | 18+ | NSFW

➹ genre - NSFW | smut | angst | edo period japan | samurai!au

➹ word count - 5k

You could see the mirage of sweltering heat lining the orange dirt path. People lined up in front of their stores and even customers and passerby's stayed towards the side to keep the path open for the royal carriages coming forward in the distance. Their loud gossip turned into hushed whispers as the carriages came closer, seeing samurai in full armor leading the extravagant royal display that was pulled by finely dressed servants.

You scoffed to yourself, folding your arms over your kimono as you watched the applause and cheers begin for the presence of the king in your humble town. He had returned from meeting with some diplomats on the other part of the district, and purposely rode through town to flaunt his power over the people. You were proven to be correct, the gold rimmed door swinging open with the sight of a black covered leg kicking out before the sun gave light to the recognizable grace of the King himself.

Bodies crowded together just to get a glimpse of the King make his way down the dirt path in the gold court carriage that two servant men pulled from the front. His fine gold and black robes hung from his pale body loosely, leading up to the small flawless face except for the single scar over his eye. His joyous laugh roared over the cheers of people pushing amongst themselves to wave at the King. You recognized the red tint in his cheeks and half closed eyes, his body staggering in the entrance of the carriage as his hand grabbed hold of his falling crown, the hanging beads crashing against each other.

Ah, he’s already drunk. And in a good mood.

You had served the King with feminie company a few unfortunate times during past summers where he called upon your sisters. Head mistress never passed up the opportunity to offer the King her services, making you and the rest of your sisters dress your best and head to the castle to dine with the Emperor. It was uncomfortable and stomach churning, the deadly rumors about the King refusing to leave your head. King Yoongi was known as a tyrant, torturer, and sick bastard who took pleasure in every form of pain. You were proven right with the suffocating tension when you all settled into the dining room, the men keeping their hands off the ladies until King Yoongi flicked his wrist; permission granted to enjoy the feast and wine. The mood only lightened when your sisters got enough wine in him, a more comfortable expression on his face that was able to make you loosen up as well.

You remembered the many parties you attended like that for the King, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him as he served his men that he granted to join his events. You managed to avoid the many summonses this summer to serve the King, passing the responsibility onto your sisters as you settled for laundry duty. Serving the King meant more money; ten chickens, five pigs and a goat you could send back home for your sickly mother but you couldn’t handle that much murderous tension in a room, it was too much on your heart. You took on basic work back at the oiran with the other men that frequented the shop but you mainly helped out with errands such as these. Trying to gather fruit in the market that now was bombarded with attention to the King rolling through. You sighed out in annoyance though you kept a safe distance hidden away in the crowd, taking in the sight of the foolish King about to fall out of his carriage. You noticed the many samurai surrounding him, raising an eyebrow to their armor cladded bodies and stone faces as they led the way towards the castle. They definitely garnered attention to themselves, making you wonder what entailed during the meeting with the noble diplomats.

You watched the carriage continue to move forward, the many townspeople following the gold display in hopes that he would drop some gold coins for them. You shook your head, wondering if you should pack some extra unpaid fruit in your bag since no one was planning to do their jobs today. You moved to head back to the stalls but quickly stopped in your tracks with eyes going wide.

There were still more men coming, but you recognized this attire on instant. They didn’t wear bulky armor like the samurai in front, but you knew these guys were the real deal with their black robes and glimpses of the familiar crest on their bodies. The group of them followed behind with a significant distance between the carriage, greeting the people as they came by.

Your eyes scanned the group of men, searching out the person that you begged your mind to remember. Remember the appearance, the distinct features, call back on the love you once shared.

It was as if time had slowed, the glimpse of the black hair being pushed back with a tan hand, long fingers getting lost in the black locks before they moved to the back of his neck to massage the tense muscles. You recognized his thick eyebrows, above those dark eyes you could get lost in if you stared for too long. You recognized the nose, pink full lips and the peek of the assorted tattoos along his body right underneath his neck being hidden by his black robe. You recognized it all, drinking him in as quickly as possible before you dared to utter his name.

Yongguk.

Your mouth didn’t even fall all the way open before you were roughly pushed aside, screaming women mingling in the group to convince the samurai to take a chance on them. If it wasn’t for your eyes frantically searching for Yongguk again you would have knocked this heavy basket of fruits on each of their hands and started a brawl.

You managed to find him again in the larger crowd, only for your face to fall with the sight of the many women between his arms. A tiny hope of him acting a bit humble, pushing them aside and focusing on his own task at hand. Instead he welcomed the attention, heated bodies against his own as his mouth moved saying something to rile the girls up in a fit of giggles.

You didn’t notice the way your body quivered or the tears stinging your eyes making them grow red. The basket of fruit that you carried suddenly grew too heavy on your arm, intense wave of emotions filling your chest as you watched his head tilt downward, red painted lips beside his ear as a girl whispered something you assumed to be words of desire, a slight smirk on his face before his eyes darted up to catch yours.

A breath hitched in your throat as you rapidly blinked, feeling hot streams of liquid burning a path down your cheeks. You staggered back as you swallowed a building lump in your throat, unable to read the look in his eyes as he continued to look at you. You finally found your footing to quickly turn around in the direction back to the oiran.

“Yeji-ah, you can’t stay like this forever.”

You muffled your sobs into the satin pillow you buried your face in, your body shaking with the cries you let out as you laid on the fluffy futon underneath you. Your friend sighed in the mirror, carefully drawing a winged line over her eyelid as she painted her face with the make-up on the table.

“Crying all night isn’t going to do you any good.” she tutted, not sparing your form a glance as she continued her work in the mirror.

The night air that came in through the open windows was cool on your hot skin from a very long soak in the bath that you spent crying in there too. You still had more sobs in you to get out, believing that this broken heart was never to be healed.

“I will cry for many more then.” you drawled, moving your smushed face to the side and finally breathing in some fresh air.

“You can’t do that~, you have work to do.”

You raised up your heavy body on your arms, pushing yourself up into a sitting position with legs crossing over. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand and pulled the snot back in with a sniff, hearing your friend make a small noise of disgust.

“I waited and waited for him to return back to me. I worked so hard even though I missed him so much.” You whined with another sniff, your numb heart being hit with another wave of sadness mingled with jealousy as the memory of the woman whispering in his ear flashed in your head again. “He’s a sleazy bastard. I should have listened to him the first time he said not to pursue him. I hope the gods give him what he deserves and-”

A hard smack against the table made you keep quiet, peeking up at your co-worker who was finally looking at you with a kind smile and freshly painted face. “This is not the Yeji I know.”

You made a noise of surprise when she hopped out of the chair and toppled over you, wrapping her arms around your form in a tight hug making you groan. Her hands clasped your face, mushing your cheeks together as she made you turn your attention on her.

“I’m not going to sit here and say I told you so because I already did but you can’t keep ruining this beautiful face with tears for a man.” You blinked at her, your smushed face making pout as your eyebrows knitted close together. Her mouth turned into a brilliant smile, playful eyes sparking with mischief.

“I heard the yamazaki is dining in a bar near the castle, and it’s going to be a very fun party.”

Your head began to shake with denial but her tight clasp kept you still as she continued, “How about we go stir it up a bit more, and I’ll give you a makeover that’ll make every man drop to their knees before you get through the door.”

You blinked at her, your voice coming out muffled, “But Yongguk will be there.”

“That’s precisely why you’re going my love.”

“I don’t want to see women on his arm.”

“And he probably doesn’t want to see his men drooling all over you. But that’s what’s going to happen. And you will take back your pride and ego and show him the power of a courtesan that can kill men and women with her appeal.”

There was a long pause between the two of you, her words settling in before her eyes smiled at you and she smacked a kiss on your lips. She released her hold on you and moved to return back to her seat, giving you the option to let her help you or not. You didn’t really like the idea of going out to a party, much less know that Yongguk was going to be there giving other women attention. Your emotions were unstable; the idea of having to let go of a lost love you’ve waited so long for that you changed your whole demeanor to that of a young girl being married off to a fine prince. Thus, this fine prince ended up being a sordid asshole who had no morals. Though, you couldn’t hold back the excitement in your heart, a little piece of yourself coming back. The look on his face when he saw you in all your glory and unfazed attitude proving two could play this game. And you wanted the last laugh.

That’s what it means to work in Oiran.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, mixed in with the couple cups of wine you downed to get you going. You took extra care in getting ready as fast as you could before the night wasn’t young anymore. You dressed in the finest gowns you could borrow, a kiss to your forehead from the headmistress as she prompted you to bring back customers since you weren’t making any money. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment but she let you and your sister go, holding hands as your laughter filled the night along with whistles of approval from men passing by. There were more people frequenting the district up near the castle, probably due to the King throwing another extravagant party to himself. But you made sure not to go too close, recognizing the famous bar you and your friend were headed towards that was lit up with joyous noise.

You squeezed the hand in yours a little tighter, your friend sparing you a glance as you held your head a bit higher, moving along the path towards the entrance of the bar. You heard the catcalls and whistles, men already falling to their knees to capture your attention like withered flowers. A naughty smile played on your lips, the fire lit lights from the windows shining on your face as you stepped in, your presence being made known by the men who were fascinated with your beauty. Donned in silk red and white robes, shoulders and neck exposed the cool summer air as your hair was pinned up in a messy bun with fringes of your hair coming down to tickle your exposed skin.

You glanced around, already gaining company as paid drinks were offered to you before you could even find a seat. Your friend and you loved to play a game of hard-to-get, only showing each other attention as men tried to get in between. Your eyes scanned the bar in search of the bastard you had your mind on all this time, biting down on your glossed bottom lip as your brown eyes searched through the yamazaki men.

Indeed you found him in the hazy smoked corner of the bar, giggling women at his feet and pouring him drink after drink, even feeding him a chicken teriyaki. He seemed to have noticed you first, dark eyes boring into yours as a red tint washed over your body. You cleared your throat and looked back at your drink in hand, throwing your head back as you let the burning liquid course down your throat.

A few more men sat at the table with you and your co-worker, compliments and words of desire already spewing from their mouths as you turned your work switch on. As a maiden who pleases men this was the same exact scenario, but instead of money you were earning Yongguk’s attention.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”

This one had caught your eye, among the others that your co-worker was keeping entertained he had his dark eyes on you. You scanned him over, being surprisingly reminded of Yongguk as you took his features in. Tan skin, thick eyebrows, short black hair and an adorable smile that made his eyes smaller. He was much more giggly, his body leaning towards yours as you rested a hand against his chest to steady him. “Yeji.”

He chuckled foolishly, “Nice to meet you, pretty girl. Name’s Himchan.”

You chuckled to yourself, laughing at his drunken actions as you watched him take a bottle of liquor out of the hand of his companion beside him, not even sparing him a glance at his flustered face. He poured the liquid into your cup, up to the very rim before he did the same with his own.

You could feel heat against the nape of your neck as you took your cup into your hands again, carefully bringing the rim to your plush lips and drinking down the alcohol. Your face scrunched over as the strong alcohol filled your senses, making your body shiver. Himchan watched your actions closely, all the while letting his hand creep up your leg. The rough hand trailing up your thigh exposed more of your skin, his face leaning in as his tongue wet his pink lips ready to press against-

You watched his face fly onto the table, his hand torn away from your body as you held back a sudden scream. Himchan was out cold before he could even put up a fight, his body slumped against the table. Your head spun to the side, seeing Yongguk stand tall over you with a hand rubbing over the knuckles of his fist.

Both of your attention was turned to the loud roar of one of his men, seeing the rest of the bar had taken notice of what went down. The large man staggered before dragging a bottle of one of the wooden tables, swinging it back over his shoulder before throwing it towards Yongguk. He dodged expertly, the wasted booze splattering over the wall as the rest of the bar went into an uproar. Yongguk had spurred on a drunken brawl, the yamazaki men beginning to fight amongst themselves.

Fists were flying in each other’s faces as women screamed and moved to get away. You stumbled back, pushing away the heavy bodies that threatened to collide into you as you searched out for your friend. Your search was short-lived, a familiar rough hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you out.

A rush of fresh air hit your heated face as you welcomed the outside, gathering your loose robes with your other free hand. You stared at the back of the man pulling you away from the bar, an ocean of mixed emotions washing over your body as you searched for your voice.

“Guk!”

He didn’t even spare you a glance, continuing to drag you along to wherever he was going.

“Stop!” you let out again with a shaky voice, attempting to pull your arm back but his grip proved stronger.

“My fucking arm, stop!!”

You collided into his body abruptly, his familiar scent filling your senses as you instinctively grabbed his body. You didn’t have time to gather your bearings, your head being tilted back with a possessive hand in the back of your hair and pulling it down. Soft lips met your own and it took every muscle to tighten over for you not to melt. His lips were firm but needy, kissing you just like you imagined you would when the two of you were granted to meet again.

You heard a growl rip from his throat the same time his other free hand clutched around the fabric on your chest. Your heart skipped at the thought of him ripping your garments off of you when you were still outside, but he controlled himself as he released it and let his hand trail up your heart skin to wrap gently around your neck.

He pulled away from your lips much to your disappointment, the hand on your neck keeping you in place as your eyes fluttered open.

“Gukkie..”

He looked just as completely entranced as you probably looked to him, holding each other’s stares as your breaths mingled together in the short distance. He dragged his hand down from your neck, stepping back with his hand now in yours before leading you off again to a nearby ryokan. The both of you hurried in, ignoring the judging eyes of the innkeeper who recognized the face of the yamazaki. Yongguk led you down to a room, guiding you in and shutting the door behind the two of you.

You brought him into your arms, leaning up to kiss him like you did before with more desire as you fought with robes on your body. He pushed you down, falling onto the floor and silently thanking that there was already a soft futon set up underneath you. He didn’t stray too far from your body, kissing you hungrily before dragging his lips down your neck.

You had played this out in your head a trillion times, thinking of all the different ways this could go. But now here you were, unable to do anything with your hands as they scratched and pulled on his body trying to anchor yourself with the pleasure and emotions your body was experiencing.

He managed to suck a few red patches over your neck and chest, already putting claim on you as his lips trailed down further. Your silk robes were no match for his steady hands putting shame to the hard time you were having earlier. You couldn’t decide if his kisses were hot against your skin or if your body was so hot that his kisses were cooling you down. Either way he had reached down to a region that needed him the most, your thighs spreading on instinct for him.

A finger dipped into your pool, swirling about before he pulled it up to the light revealing a sheen of wetness on his digit. His dark eyes caught yours in a heated gaze, making sure you watched him take his middle finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. You moaned wantonly at the sight, quickly biting it back with a whine in fear of your loudness.

He watched his head dive in, feeling his tongue against your slick folds as he licked up hungrily. You covered your mouth in silent scream, feeling his tongue quickly work into rhythm that circled around your folds and lapped up to flick your clit.

You pressed your hand against your mouth tighter, the noise in your throat finding its way out as your lips mouthed curses into your palm. Your free hand found it way into his hair, but he quickly pulled your grasp into his own hand and held on securely. His tongue dipped into your hole, pushing it in as far as it would go making your walls sputter in desire for more length, more girth, and more heat. Your legs were a quivering mess as he lapped you up, altering with his tongue going inside you in a mocking gesture of what was soon to come.

You had needed this. Badly.

Your robes were beginning to stick to your body though you were quite exposed to the air that began to fill with sex. You almost couldn’t take it when his mouth wrapped around your rosebud, sucking into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around making you scream into your hand. You began to buck into his mouth, wanting even more of the pleasure you didn’t know what to do with.

He swirled his tongue over your pussy a few more times, a squelching noise filling the room shamefully as you whined to mask over the sound. Disappointment washed over you when he moved away, only to clench your walls at the sight of him sitting on the back of his heels, loosening the tie around his yukata.

Your eyes darted down as his robe opened up gracing you with the sight of his tan skin, toned body that was donning fresh new battle scars since the last you’ve seen of him. Nothing caught your eyes more than the hard meat standing at attention. You didn’t notice your legs were quivering in anticipation until his hands were underneath your thighs, pushing them back to fold over your torso. The concept of time had escaped from you not knowing if Yongguk was moving too fast or too slow as your eyes strained to watch him the pitch of darkness. You realized you didn’t need to when you could feel it, feel the head of his cock at your entrance coating itself in your wetness all the more making that same shameful sound.

He was pushing himself in before you knew it, making a lustful noise tear from your throat as you stared up at him with eyes losing focus. You heard hiss out a curse, something about the tightness as he permitted his dick to go in deeper.

Claim you.

He held the back of your knees firmly, letting them shake in his hold as he guided his cock to go inside of you. He was so large, too thick for you to take in all at once. He knew this, which is why he pulled back to push in more slowly earning another fucked out whine from your throat. The two of you continued on like that until he was satisfied with what length you could take, pulling his hips back and experimentally snapping back in. Your body took the move well, coating his dick in a sheen of wetness as he built up a steady, slow rhythm. Even though your body was taking it well the pleasure was too much for you to handle. It had been so long since the last time for you never dared to have sex with another man if it wasn’t Yongguk. No amount of fantasizing and masturbating prepared you for this as you held onto his wrists so you wouldn’t lose yourself to the pleasure.

Yongguk watched his dick slip inside you, picking up speed as you took more of his length. Your wells sputtered over his girth, the tightness coaxing him to spill himself so early in the act. He chased the temptation away, snapping his hips into your own until his trance broke with your noise breaking into a high pitch. He whispered a soft apology, before returning to a bearable pace and letting his eyes scan over your body. You were a mess that was all his, in a shameful position that opened up just for him. You couldn’t hold himself back from picking up speed again, wanting to hear more of the noises spilling from your mouth. You were calling upon the gods, not bothering to hold back your wanton sounds as you spurred Yongguk on. You ignored the soreness in your legs as he pushed them back further, letting his body hover over you as he slammed his cock into your squelching pussy. Your eyes rolled back as you begged for it, making sure to tighten your walls over him everytime he came down.

He cursed aloud before falling back onto his knees, halting his movements as he gained a tighter grip on the back of your knees. His dick slipped in and out of you, a slower pace than before though you weren’t complaining. The oncoming feeling of heat building in your lower stomach made you whine, as you reached out uselessly for Yongguk.

He stared down at your pleading expression, messy hair sticking to the sides of your face, lustful eyes begging out, “Make it last...please, make it last.”

You whispered the words over and over, listening to the growl that tore from his throat as he disciplined himself to keep a steady pace as he felt your walls squeeze over his cock. Your orgasm washed over in waves, a gurtled moan of his name as your eyes rolled back and curses spewed from your shameful mouth. You choked on a whine when he picked up speed, your sore legs falling to his sides as he released them and his hands fell between you. You listened to his mingled grunts and moans as he fucked you like he wanted. You wrapped your heavy arms around him, letting your mouth trail kisses along his neck and whispered dirty nothings into the air just for him to hear. He cursed loudly, quickly pulling out and emptying himself on the lower part of your stomach. You felt the hot spurts of liquid on your skin, the act of it almost turning you on again.

He fell over you again, welcoming his body in open arms as a tired smile played on your face. The both of you were spent and sleep was calling to you but the excitement of being with Yongguk after so long kept you up. You traced pictures into his back, your mind racing with the things you wanted to say to him.

You felt the weight on your body raise off of you, a look of surprise donning your features as you watched him gather his robe to cover him again and move away from your body. You quickly sat up, pulling your own silk to cover your body as you silently watched his back turn to you.

“So we have sex and that’s it? No I’ve missed you or this is where I’ve been this whole time?”

He was silent to your shaky questions, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You’ll be safe here tonight. Go home in the morning.”

You scoffed in disbelief, a familiar twinge in your heart as you blurted, “You’re a sleazy bastard. You take all the women you want and throw them away after one night. If I didn’t show up tonight it would probably be another woman in here with you wouldn’t there?”

“Stop it.” his deep voice gently commanded, his back still turned to you as anger welled up inside.

“I’ve waited all this time for you and the first thing you do when you get back is play with some prostitutes and ignore me? When were you going to make time for me!?” Your voice was much louder, enough to wake up other possible guests in the inn. Your mouth pressed closed when he turned around with a harsh stare until you realized what was being held in them. Your jaw trembled as you felt your eyes burn, hoping to get the rest of it out in a clear voice.

“Did you forget about everything between us?”

You stared each other down for a long while, refusing to break eye contact in fear that if you did it meant he no longer carried those feelings for you. You blinked when he moved towards you, a hand on the back of your neck pulling you to the lips that placed a soft kiss on your head.

“Keep your feelings close to your heart. Don’t let anyone else see what’s inside.”

You gasped when you felt the tight tension on your neck make a snap, your consciousness quickly going out and sleep welcoming you home.

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mst3kproject · 3 years ago

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The Giant of Marathon

For some reason, probably because I've seen them all so many times, I thought I'd already done all four Film Crew episodes. Evidently this is not true. Here's one, and if you haven't seen it... wow, Mr. Honcho was not exaggerating about the thousands of sweaty men.

Philippides of Athens is the greatest athlete there is, having won the entire Olympics. With the games over, he returns to his day job as commander of the Athenian city guard. Followers of Hippias the exiled tyrant are plotting to take control of the city with help from the invading Persians, and they try to seduce Philippides to their cause by offering him wine, women, and homoerotic wrestling (it was ancient Greece, after all). Philippides refuses to be seduced, and sets off to secure the help of Athens' old enemy Sparta in opposing the Persians. His mission is a success, but upon his return a spy tells him that the Persians are planning a sneak attack on the harbour of Piraeus. Can even Philippides get there in time to deliver the warning?

I don't actually know if it were possible to win the entire Olympics in ancient Greece. I know there were several events and at least one of them involved reciting poetry. The Battle of Marathon was in 490 BC and a table on Wikipedia suggests that there could have been up to twelve different sports, but some of them were only for children.

The Giant of Marathon touts itself as a tale of epic battles, daring deeds, and political machinations. I'll get back to the epic battles and daring deeds, but what stands in for the political machinations is mostly a bunch of people pining. Unimpressive villain Theocritus is pining for the beautiful Andromeda, whose father has promised her to him but she thinks he's a dick. She's pining for Philippides, who is also pining for her but thinks she's one of Hippias' followers, so refuses to speak to her. Meanwhile Theocritus' concubine Charis is also pining for Philippides because he's the only man who ever refused to fuck her, I think.

These relationships are important to the plot, too. Andromeda's love for Philippides is one of the reasons her father refuses to join the traitors, and when Theocritus realizes he cannot have her, he ties her to the prow of his ship to force Philippides to watch her die. Charis' crush on Philippides leads her to her death, as she is executed for spying. Yet none of it is ever developed beyond 'these two pretty people saw each other and now they want to bone'. Philippides declares his love for Andromeda after a single five-minute interaction. Charis has seen Philippides twice, and both times it went badly, when she decides to betray Theocritus.

Why do the writers hang such important plot points on the 'love' between people who have barely spoken to each other? I can't decide if it's because they're lazy, or because they're hacks, and I lean towards a combination of the two. There is absolutely no subtlety to the writing in The Giant of Marathon at all. Everything is told, not shown. We know that Theocritus and Creusus are traitors because they talk about it, in dialogue that's clearly written for the audience, not as anything that sounds like a natural conversation. We know that Charis and Andromeda are both in love with Philippides because they say so. The only thing we're really shown is that Andromeda hates Theocritus, which comes through in her body language (though we are also very much told), so props to actress Mylène Demongeot for that much.

The movie doesn't care about any of this character stuff, anyway. It just wants to get straight to those epic battle scenes, and it's very obvious how much work and time went into those as opposed to everything else. The battles are lengthy and elaborate, full of impressive stunts and props and miniatures being destroyed all over the place. We get to see Persian chariots run down Greek infantry, and while I'm pretty sure this would have been orchestrated so the stuntmen didn't get hurt, I'm not nearly so confident about the unfortunate horses (and neither was Bill). There are ships in flames and injured men screaming as they fall overboard. There are even some pretty good deaths, like the guy who was hit in the eye with an arrow. The desperate last stand of the city guard against the entire Persian fleet, with the Spartans arriving just in time to save the day, is very tense indeed.

I get the impression that this is what somebody really wanted to put on screen, and they did a decent job of it, but pretty much the entire rest of what ought to be the story is just an accessory to the fighting stuff. It's as if the film-makers wanted so badly for their fight sequences to be epic that they forgot what makes epic-ness – which is the characters and their stake in the events. We don't know any of these people, none of them have anything we might call a personality trait, and so we don't care.

The focus on how epic it all is makes I seem a little strange that the battle ends on a shot of dead Persian guys floating in the water. You'd think they'd want to end with something that more decisively shows the Athenian victory, maybe the men cheering as the Persian ships turn around and flee. Or perhaps some kind of victory celebration, which could mirror the celebration of Philippides winning the Olympics in the opening and call back to the scene where Philippides asks the goddess Athena to protect her city.

Instead, we cut to a shot of Philippides and Andromeda walking across the farmland together. This feels a little too sudden, and is also a poor fit with the rest of the movie. The only time we've seen Philippides on his farm is when he's gotten disgusted with the politics of Athens and returned to the countryside to sulk. If the farm is supposed to be a place where he's happy and at peace, the movie never establishes it.

So that's political machinations and epic battle sequences, let's talk about some daring deeds.

Unlike the Hercules and Maciste movies we've seen in the past, The Giant of Marathon wants to be grounded in real-life history. This means that while the script does reference gods and mythical heroes, none of them ever appear and there is no hint of them working behind the scenes to bring events about. Likewise, Philippides is not a demigod, so we avoid several of the tropes associated with the genre. Nothing important ever happens (or fails to happen) because the hero was asleep, and he never bends prison bars or drinks a love potion – although a love potion is mentioned, as if to draw attention to this.

This doesn't leave Philippides a whole lot of scope for daring deeds, and when they try the results are a little lackluster. His main feat is, of course, running all the way from Marathon to Athens (the proverbial forty-two kilometres) to let them know of the impending attack, but while this ought to be the highlight of the movie it's shot in terrible day-for-night and we have nothing to suggest how far this is... I think the writers just assumed everybody knows the length of a marathon. If we'd seen the army tired from making the march earlier, we would have a better sense of it being a long and tiring journey even at a walk or with horses, and it would seem that much more formidable as a distance for one man to cover before sunrise. Of course, showing us these things is apparently beyond the scope of The Giant of Marathon's writers, but you'd think they could at least have a character say something like, “it's twenty-six miles! He'll never make it!”

His other major daring deed is when he pushes giant boulders down a hill onto the attacking Persians. This is kind of weird because Philippides is not Hercules or Maciste. He's good at track and field, but we haven't seen any evidence of him having godlike strength, and this is a universe where gods don't seem to do much anyway, so it comes out of nowhere. The rocks are huge – there are similarly-sized ones at the park near my house and I know one guy couldn't move them no matter how buff he might be. Did somebody just forget that they weren't making a Hercules movie?

Between the battles and the various plot twists, The Giant of Marathon could have been a pretty fun sword-and-sandal movie, but it's like a tower without a foundation. The fights have nothing to hold them up, so we just can't get into it. Also, what the Underworld happened to Hippias? We see him once, chatting with the king of Persia, and then he vanishes and the movie decides weaselly little Theocritus is the big bad instead. I'm sorry, but if you've got a character with a name as cool as 'Hippias the Tyrant', you really can't just drop him like that.

The Best Brains liked to complain about the tinyness of the costumes in these movies but honestly, nothing here is as off-putting as actual ancient Greek sports would have been to the modern viewer. When I was in university I TA'd for a course called Introduction to Greco-Roman Civilization. It was an adventure in several ways – the students were mostly dumb freshmen who spent the lectures playing Farmville, and the professor didn't give a shit because she'd just been denied tenure. I don't know how much anybody learned in that class, but I'm sure they all recall how, after the professor told us that Greek athletes stripped naked and covered themselves in olive oil before wrestling, somebody raised a hand and asked if they removed their body hair. The professor cheerfully told him that they did not, so next time we see a Greek vase we ought to remember that these guys were much sweatier, oilier, and hairier than terra cotta can possibly convey.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the battle of marathon #the film crew #50s #my cheese steak

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all.

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang

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talesofphantombandits · 4 years ago

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Zero to Six ~ Going Underground - Edited Version. Part 3.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC) Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c

Zero to Six ~ Part 1. Edited Version. Materlist.

It was exactly one month after Zero had last seen One in her flat, she had flown back home two days after the incident and hadn’t heard from him since. Apart from tickets emailed to her for Las Vegas and a hotel room that she assumed was where their next mission was going to be.

She’d flown out to Vegas a few days back, part of her was glad that she hadn’t had to converse with him. She was still incredibly upset that just the thought of hearing his voice nearly put her into a fit of rage. She kept all contact to a minimum while throwing herself fully into her research, she’d only kept in regular contact with Three and Five, although Four would randomly drop in to annoy her.

She’d woken up at about 10am, she hopped out of bed only for the purpose of making food. Once the pancakes had finished cooking she hopped back into the comfort of her bed and opened her laptop, she went back and forth eating and doing research. The next time she found herself looking at the clock it was 12:30pm, it took all of her will power to drag herself back out of bed to put her plate and utensils in the dishwasher and then into the bathroom for a shower. When she reemerged from the steaming room she was greeted by the ding that signalled she had a email.

She opened it and the first thing that caught her attention was that it was from One. Sighing she knew that she couldn’t ignore it, for it might have been something really important.

‘Meet me at the Golden Cafe down the street at 17:00 sharp, make sure to wear something that won’t draw attention to you. Wear a black cap. P.s Remember don’t say anything the others about this. -One.’

‘Don’t wear anything that will draw attention to you.’ who the hell did One think she was? She really had to calm herself down before she went to meet him. If this meeting was going to go well, she would have to have a level head around him.

“Ah Zero, you’re online. To be fair I should have guessed as you’re always online.” She slightly jumped as Fours deep voice burst through the speakers.

“Jesus Four.” She put a hand over her heart to calm herself down.

He started to laugh. “Did I startle you darling?” She huffed and plopped down on the bed next to her laptop so she could connect the earpiece and speak to him properly.

“No, I just wasn’t concentrating fully that’s all.” She glanced at the time again, It was still early she furrowed her brow confused. “What are you doing up so early anyway? I thought you always stayed up late doing dodgy stuff on the internet?”

He just scoffed at her in disbelief. “Excuse me darling, but who do you take me for?”

“She’s not wrong though is she? I think I’ve accidentally walked in on you enough times to say that, that is the truth.” Two chimed in, to which Four immediately started up his defence.

Zero just laid back in her bed and basked in the happiness that was, to her a family argument.

Four had the last word though. “Oh shut up Two! I bet you’ve seen worse, Wait a second How do you know what I’m doing on a night?”

Zero all but gasped. “Is that a confession Four? And I might have to carry out routine security checks on the bases internet. Which means looking through some of your histories.”

“Jesus woman.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at how worried Four sounded, knowing that she could see everything he searched on the internet. “Look I’m just doing my job, I’m just keeping everyone safe.”

“But you’re basically stalking me.” Four hissed.

Zero clicked her tongue. “Did you not hear me sweetie? I HAVE to look into your history for security reasons. Don’t get all shy on me now Four, plus your history isn’t even the spiciest.”

“So who’s the worst then?”

She laughed, like she was going to tell him that. “That sir, I can’t disclose.”

“You’re no fun Zero, I thought we told each other everything.” She could hear the pout in his voice and she wished she could see his adorable face.

“Oh we tell each other everything do we?” She laughed. “Then how come I didn’t know you had a marking kink?”

“LISTEN STOP STALKING ME! I SWEAR TO GOD ZERO! JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I’L-” Just like that she cut off the coms laughing hysterically at Fours outburst.

Looking to the clock she noticed that she just had enough time to change and dry her hair before she had to make her way to the cafe.

When she finally made it to the cafe she spotted One straight away, he was stood by the counter. When they made eye contact he ushered her to follow him to the furthest booth in the back of the shop.

“Why did we meet here? Why didn’t you just come up to the hotel room?” She whispered as she sat down by the side of him.

“Because I’m here, and he doesn’t want me to know where he’s keeping you.” Zero’s head shot up to the second voice, she looked at one expecting him to instantly tell her who this other woman was.

But her brain finally caught up to her and it registered the accent. “Five?” She said in disbelief.

She quickly snapped back to One who seemed more interested in the phone in his hand then on the meeting. “I thought you said I couldn’t tell the others about this?”

“He asked me to help you get ready for tonight.” Five had now moved around the back of One’s chair and took a seat.

“Tonight?” Zero’s brows furred in confusion. “You mean the mission is tonight?”

“Yes.” One said still more immersed in his phone, It was starting to piss her off. “Did I not mention that in the email this morning?”

Zero gritted her teeth. “No, you made no mention that a big mission, not to mention my first ever mission would be tonight.”

Finally he peered up from his phone to see Zero angrily staring him down. “Okay look.” Finally the phone landed on the table. “It’s simple really, You’re going to be working as a bartender. Which luckily for you, you already have experience in. Serve drinks to anyone that comes up to the bar, start conversations, ask questions but most importantly listen to the conversations around you. People get drunk at these things and spill shit that their not suppose to, and so the rest of the team aren’t suspicious your coms will be off when you start your shift.”

“What will you tell them? Isn’t it going to be more suspicious that I’m not at the end of coms?” She looked between One and Five.

“It’s not really a tech based mission, I’ll just say I gave you the night off.” He shrugged.

“What about the others? Where will they be?” By that she meant where would Four be, but she wasn’t going to outright say that, not in front of One at least.

“Two and Three have their own little mission in the hotel, Seven will be taking a backseat and Four and Five will be working the floor in the club you’ll be serving.” She looked to Five at the mention of Four, her eyes lit up. “AH! Don’t even think about it, off limits Zero.”

She just scoffed at him, he acted like he was her real father sometimes. “As if I didn’t know that already, I’m not a child One. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah well I’m trusting you, don’t fuck this up Zero. Five has everything prepared for you she’s going to leave first, you wait twenty minutes then follow her to the hotel. Room 374, she’ll get you ready for tonight.”

One got up from his seat without a single sound, he nodded at both the women and then headed for the door. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that Zero looked over at Five, they just smiled at each other. With all the information she had just consumed she hadn’t even stopped to think that she was actually in the presence of one of her family members, one that wasn’t One!

“This is crazy.”

Five just smiled at her, a genuinely beautiful smile that Zero couldn’t help but return. “It’s so nice to finally put a face to the voice.” She looked down at her watch and sighed. “We shouldn’t do this here though, I’m going to leave now I’ll meet you at the hotel. Room 374 remember.”

“Got it! I’ll meet you there.” She couldn’t stop smiling as Five got up and waved her goodbye.

The twenty minutes she waited to follow Five were the longest twenty minutes she’d ever had to wait in her life, it seemed to drag on she was so nervous she had to physically hold her knee down to stop her leg from shaking.

The walk to the hotel didn’t take too long and she reached the lobby in no time, she put on the dark cap paired with some black shades. Nothing too out of the ordinary but it kept her face hidden none the less. Once she walked inside she was in awe, she’d never seen the inside of such an expensive and vast hotel. It was absolutely beautiful, she dreaded to think what a room would cost in this place. As she walked further in she lowered her glasses to get a better look at the foyer her eyes were glued to the ceiling so she didn’t know she was on a collision path with a tall beefy guy who was looking down at his phone until they hit one another and she nearly went flying. Luckily he had reacted in time and broke her fall, though her glasses weren’t so lucky.

She got up and brushed herself off. “God I’m so sorry mami!” Her head shot up at the familiar voice.

Staring back at her was Three, she quickly had to remind herself who she was and where she was. “No problem, I think we were both at fault, I was mesmerised by the ceiling and you by your phone.” The first accent that came to mind was an Irish one, so she went with it.

He just nodded in agreement and gave her a lopsided smile. “Ah! here, you dropped these.” He bent down and handed her back her sunglasses.

“Thanks, sorry again.” She smiled at him one last time then scurried off to the elevators.

Once she was secured and alone in the metal box she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, and sighed. This was going to be one hell of a long night. Her thoughts were interrupted when the elevator dinged, she rushed down the hall and knocked hurriedly on the door labelled 374. She had no intentions of bumping into anyone else, not even a second later Five opened the door and Zero rushed inside.

“Woah, what happened? Are you okay?” Zero moved to the couch in the room and laid down, burrowing her face in her hands.

“I just accidentally bumped into Three downstairs.” She sided eyed Five who looked at her in shock. “Don’t worry I don’t think he knew who I was, I put on an Irish accent. Don’t tell One though he’ll probably pull me from the mission if he finds out.”

Before Five could even respond to her, Zero took notice of her laptop and ear piece on the table in front of her when it started to crackle. “Hey party people, are we all ready for tonight? It’s a shame I won’t get to hear your beautiful voice in my ear tonight Zero, can’t believe that One has actually given you the night off.”

She reached out and took the earpiece. “Don’t be too sad Four, at least you’ll be able to actually concentrate on this mission.” She looked up at Five who was just giggling, It was so strange to actually be in the same room as her. Zero smiled, she could get use to this.

“Who I’m I going to piss off tonight though?” She could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“I’m sure you’ll find some beautiful girl to have on your arm and piss off the entire night.” She felt sad just thinking about it. “Well good luck team, do me proud! and don’t miss me too much.” She shut the communication line down before he could respond.

She looked up to Five as she shut the laptop and took out her ear piece, placing it on top of the laptop. She wouldn’t be needing that now for the rest of the night.

“You okay?” Five gave her a sad smile.

Zero forced herself to look completely unphased. “I’m fine, let’s go get ready.”

.....

Zero stood at the bar, Five had dressed her in black skinny jeans paired with some black Doc Marten boots, a black silk button up and a deep green velvet waistcoat. She wore a dark black wig that came down to her chest and flowed in light curls, her makeup was smoky to match the uniform. She looks professional. The venue was dark, with moody but classy lighting which meant she blended right in. The bartender role came naturally to Zero, before she was a ghost she had worked in a small bar for about two years before everything had kicked off, the events of which led her here.

She started the shift by just cleaning up glasses, serving mostly already drunk customers and listening to every word of every conversation. About five minutes early she had spotted Five enter the room with a rich looking man on her arm, she’d caught Zero’s eye from across the room and winked at her which put her at ease.

Suddenly the air in the room shifted, she couldn’t explain it but her eyes were drawn to the entrance of the club. A man walked in, his blonde hair was slicked back on the top but the sides where shaven. A tight black tux hugged his body, Zero wished she could picture this moment for the rest of her life, butterflies started to stir in her stomach.

It was Four.

#6 underground #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground four #6 underground fanfic #6 underground billy #four #four fanfiction #billy #billy fanfiction #billy x reader #billy x oc #billy x scout #four x reader #four x oc #four x zero #ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy four

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forlornmelody · 4 years ago

Text

The Fantabulous Vacation of One Harley Quinn and Her Girlfriend Poison Ivy

Rating: T (suggestive themes, cartoon violence)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: Harley's been burning the wick at both ends and Ivy knows just the thing to help. But it takes more than just a change of scenery to get Harley to let go.

Note: Commission for @rookie009

~*~*~*

“You’re probably wondering Mr---Watchman--”

“Tockman.” Mr. Watchman spits. “William Tockman.”

“Why I’ve brought you here today.”

Mr. Watchman rolls his eyes. “I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

“Ah! Good. You’ve stopped struggling. Progress, Mister!” Harley boops him on the nose. Maybe she made the binding too tight? “I’m not cutting off your circulation, am I?” She leans in close. “Are you comfortable? I need you comfortable.”

“I’m tied up in ropes, wench!”

“Ah, see! This is what I’m talking about!” Harley sits across from him and his fainting couch, pulling her pen from her bun and making a heading on her notepad. “You have a whore madonna complex.” Chewing her pen, she murmurs, “perhaps from the trauma of your wife’s death? Cystic Fibrosis, was it?”

Her new patient says nothing. “Mister?” Harley glances up. “Willy?”

“Help!” William Tockman dangles from his left ankle, suspended in air by a beefy vine. “She’s gonna kill me!”

“Oh please. You’re hardly worth the trouble.” Ivy steps around him and the vine, brushing the dust off her hands. “Hi Harls!” How she got the vines up this far on this abandoned apartment building, Harley has no idea. But it sure has a lot of brick to climb.

“Ivy!” Harley doesn’t so much as hug her as ram her at full speed.

Her target, used to such behavior by now, braces for impact and manages to hug back. Harley takes a big whiff. “Mm. Jasmine?”

“Lilacs.” Ivy peers over at Clock King. “You...uh, busy?”

“Mm yeah. A little tied up at the moment. Or he is, at least.”

“So I see.” Ivy chews her lip, staring out the window as if she had left a reminder there. She makes a face as the draft stirs some of the painting tarp discarded on the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could get out of town for a bit.”

“HELP.”

“Are you asking for help, Billy? Or do you prefer Willy?”

“HELP ME! THESE WOMEN ARE CRAZY.”

“Great!” Harley says brightly. “Admitting you need help is the first step towards healing!”

“Harls? Are you even listening?”

“You need help dismantling another CEO along with his company?”

“No.”

“Fundraiser for conservation efforts?”

“Harley--”

“Pride pre-game with Kitty?”

“Harleen.” That stops Harley short. Ivy never calls her that. Mostly cause she hates getting called Pamela with an undying passion. Probably childhood trauma. But Harley digresses.

Ivy sighs. “Sorry. Look. I need a vacation. We need a vacation.”

“I need help!”

“SHUT UP ALREADY.” Ivy and Harley say it together, and Ivy waves a hand, muffling Harley’s captive, er, patient with a particularly broad leaf.

“Mm... I’m a little busy--”

Ivy glances at Tockman, finally. “I can see that.”

“Lemme look at my calendar. Mmm.. maybe...next year? Definitely the one after that.”

“Harls.”

“I know, I know. But there’s my derby team, missions with Task Force X, the Birds of Prey, my day job--”

“I know.” Ivy takes her hands, gently, and squeezes them. It’s the softness that stops Harley in her tracks. “It’s why you need some time off.”

“But--”

“Shh. I already have plane tickets and a hotel booked. You don’t have to plan a thing.”

Harley can’t help the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “Aww, shucks, Ives. When are we leaving?”

“Now. The plane’s departing in--shit. We gotta go.”

“MMRPH.”

“Oh, right.” Ivy releases Clock King with a patented thud as she shoves Harley out the door. “Bye!”

-----

“So, we’re we goin’?” Harley pushes the arm rest out of the way and rests her chin on Ivy’s shoulder. She glances at Ivy’s phone as if it’ll give her some clues. She spots a sudoku puzzle. “Japan?”

“No.”

“The Amazon?”

“Nope.”

“Themyscyra?”

Ivy gives her a look. “Really?”

“Er….my mom’s? Please say it’s not my mom’s.”

“It’s not your mom’s.”

“Thank God.”

“Also, why would we fly to your mom’s house when we could easily drive? Or take a commuter bus?”

“Good point. Mm.”

Ivy smooths Harley’s hair out of her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She snatches a quick kiss before the flight attendant rolls by. “You’ll love it.”

In this moment, Harley’s pretty sure she’d love anywhere as long Ivy’s there with her. She’s lit up by the light of the tiny window behind her, and her crimson locks glow like an angel’s. But Harley knows well enough that neither of them are anywhere close to innocent. “Say, how’d you get us past security?”

Ivy winks at her.

“No casualties?”

Her lover mockingly brushes her own chest like a scandalized church mouse. “I would never!” she snorts. “They’ll be fine. Just a little dazed and confused.”

Harley leans her head on Ivy’s shoulder. “I know the feelin’.” And really! Harley’s proud of her. Ivy’s never been one to follow rules or care for humans. But she tries for Harley. Why she bothers when Mistah J never seemed to care, Harley has no idea. But it means the world to her.

-----

The taxi drops them off in front of a large revolving door. But it’s not the gold handles that capture Harley’s attention.

It’s the lush plants growing from every nook and cranny on the place. Harley bets Ivy could spend an hour naming all of them (scientific names and personal names.) Butterflies and hummingbirds in every color of the rainbow--and the faint buzzing of bees. A solitary stream crosses their path, and a wooden bridge stretches over it. Garden terrace after garden terrace rise up from the ground to an open-air cafe at the top.

And behind the walls and the hotel proper? A waterpark.

Harley’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Ivy! You shouldn’t have!” She squeezes her into a hug.

“Thanks, sweet pea, but I can’t breathe.” Ivy manages to get out.

“Oof, sorry. Here ya go.” Harley releases her, and Ivy pecks her on the cheek.

“Best part is, they’ve a zero-carbon footprint and they’re waste free.” Harley rarely sees her grin so wide.”

“Whoa.”

“They call it The Greenhouse.”

-----

Their first day at the resort passes in a blur. Harley shows Ivy a good time in and out of their bedroom. They go snorkeling in the ocean, ride the rides so many times Harley ends up upchucking their picnic at the beach, then make love at sunset in their honeymoon suite. Harley wonders if the management thinks they’re--well, they’re as good as, aren’t they? They don’t need rings or a wedding or a place of their own or--

“Harley?”

She blinks. Ivy only calls her that when she’s worried. Harley realizes she’s been staring at the chocolates on their pillows for God knows how long. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Of course!” she says automatically, pulling Ivy into another kiss.

Ivy kisses back, then runs a finger down her cheek. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” The setting sun makes her hair even redder, which Harley didn’t think possible, and Harley finds herself toying with her curls.

“Hey, I’ve been wonderin’.”

If Ivy notices the change in subject, she doesn’t mention it. “Yeah?”

“How come we haven’t seen any other guests? And how come we haven’t been arrested?”

“Oh! That.” Ivy waves a hand dismissively. “I rented out the whole resort.”

“With what money??”

Ivy shoots her a wicked look that sends shivers down Harley’s spine. “Ace Chemical’s investment fund.”

“Ooooh, you’re naughty.”

Harley dives in for another kiss but Ivy puts a finger to her lips. And doesn’t let her suck on it. Rude. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Since we’ve got all this extra cash, wanna make a run at the casino? I hear they donate the proceeds to rainforest restoration.”

“Alright.” Ivy sighs and reaches for her dress. Harley has a sinking feeling that she’s going to bring this up later. Maybe if Harley’s lucky she’ll forget about it? Yeah. Ivy forgets things all the time.

“Last one there buys the first round!”

-----

Ivy and Harley sit across from each other, an immaculate brunch setting between them and two mimosas. Her lover’s plate sits almost empty, and while Harley’s lies largely untouched. She keeps playing with her veggie egg white omelet, but the next bite never seems to make it to her mouth. “And then we can go for a walk on the beach later! Have you seen those beds? Right there on the water? Mm. Do you think anyone would hear us if we--”

“Harley, wait.”

“Like, the sound of the waves would cover it up, right? Mm. Maybe not. I’m loud. Not as loud as--”

“Harley, no. Stop. Stop.” Ivy presses her hands on either side of Harley’s face, drawing her to a standstill and inches away from her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!”

Ivy gives her a sad smile, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to impress me, Harls. I love you.”

Harley, in typical Harley fashion, vibrates with energy. “But…I want this to be special. As special as y--”

“This vacation already is special. Cause you’re here with me.”

“But--” I’m not that special, Harley wants to say. But she knows Ivy won’t let her get away with saying that out loud. She wants to crawl underneath the tablecloth and hide until Ivy leaves. They always leave in the end. Once they get what they want. Mistah J--

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” Ivy takes her hand, gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe. Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know what to do if Ivy stays. It’s easier to love someone who doesn’t love her back. It’s safe. Ahem. Emotionally safe, Dr. Quinzel says inside her head. For once, Harley has nothing to say. She’s too busy trying to keep the tears from falling.

“You don’t have to do anything. I already love you.” Ivy bites her lip--the way she always does when she’s thinking hard. Like how best to resurrect a drooping petunia or a rose bush that has a pest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “And if it’s not too much--too early--to say this: I always will.”

“You proposin’ or somethin’?” The words tumble out of Harley’s mouth before she can stop them. Her cheeks feel like they’re blushing as bright as Ivy’s hair.

“I…” Ivy’s eyes widen. “I-I don’t have a ring on me.”

Shit. Fuck. ShitshitshitFuuuuuuuuuck. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeanit.” “It’s way too soon.” Harley puts on her best brave face--the same one she always put on when Bats showed up and Mistah J magically was nowhere to be found. “Marriage is so outda--”

“Harley.” Ivy puts her entire hand over her face. “Quinn.” “I never said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Mmphwr?”

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Harley Quinn? You’re amazing.” She traces her eyebrows. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Boops her nose. “You’re impossible to kill. Holy fuck.” Runs her fingertip across her bottom lip. “You…” Ivy presses her lips together, looking down at the table. “You helped me love again when I hated everyone.”

“Pam.” Fuck, she’s getting misty eyed.

“I mean it. I was ready to wipe humanity off the map and start over.” She laughs a little, her voice rough as she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “But then you came along and nominated yourself my new shrink.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Wow, okay. Maybe she’s more than just misty-eyed. “You saved me too. From Mistah Jay. From Bats. From what woulda been a really boring life.”

Ivy’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you Harls?”

Harley squeezes her hand. “Nah. You’re stuck with me.” Her words come out a little thick. “For richer or poorer.”

Her lover leans in close, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “That’s usually pretty literal for you.”

“HEY.”

“It’s true! Guess I’ll have to see if Ace or maybe Lexcorp has any funds they won’t miss. I need to get that ring soon. Garnet? Spinel maybe?”

“Aww, shucks. How am I gonna be surprised now?”

Ivy scoffs. “If it’s a real surprise, it’s not a good time for a proposal.”

“But what if I want to be like those girls in those Tik Toks? Like where you propose to me but like I got my own box in my pocket?”

“Harley. A ring box wouldn’t fit in your tiny ass pockets, and you know it.”

“You know what would fit in my shorts?”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel.” Her laughter dissolves in a kiss and Harley pulls her back to their suite. They got a lot of planning to do. Though Harley has a pretty good feeling they’re not gonna get a whole lot of planning done today. But Harley’s okay with that. Pam’s always been the top of her to-do list anyway.

#harlivy #DC comics #poisonquinn #harley quinn #poison ivy #clock king #fluff isn't my usual so PLEASE tell me what you think #so sugary sweet you're gonna need to brush your teeth #melody writes #fluff

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